


Here Between Earth and Sky

by ohnoscarlett



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Space, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Astronauts, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Declarations Of Love, Hand Jobs, M/M, Niall's wonky knee, Orgasm Denial, Pilots, Protective Harry, Protective Liam, Riding, Rough Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Spanking, Tattoos, Top Gun AU, Zayn is kind of a douche, blink and you'll miss it d/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoscarlett/pseuds/ohnoscarlett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is an RAF pilot, along with his best mate Liam. They've been bounced from station to station for years together, until they finally end up in Scotland. Louis is unimpressed with how his military career is progressing, so he suggests they go train at the American tactical fighter school, otherwise known as Top Gun.</p><p>They're transferred one more time, even further up into the wilds of Scotland, and Louis is ready to call it quits. But then they meet the incredibly friendly Zayn and Perrie, who introduce them to everyone else they know, including their fun neighbors and co-workers.</p><p>There's a baby, an unconventional proposal of marriage, lots of airplane!porn (because airplanes!), and then a little regular porn after Louis and Harry get it together. </p><p>Lots of picturing lads in uniform, looking very sharp indeed. Then, wait--what? An opportunity to join the European Space Agency to possibly go to the International Space Station? Or Mars! Ok then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Between Earth and Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the lovely cloudlessclimes, as always. Couldn't do it without you.
> 
> Now with added mix! http://8tracks.com/skyandsandx/here-between-earth-and-sky by the ever-charming coastingonthisdream. Thanks, doll!

Here Between Earth and Sky

Louis met Liam on their first day at RAF Cranwell in Lincolnshire. He had passed the four day Potential Regiment Officers Course and been accepted to the Royal Air Force College to be, ultimately, a pilot. They sat next to each other in their elementary flying training; Liam shining earnestly while Louis tried to rein in his teasing to moments when the instructor was far enough away not to hear, or sufficiently distracted by another cadet not to care.

They were fast friends, gone through it all together til the end, nearly four years later. Louis’ family had practically adopted Liam during the long Basic Fast Jet Training. Linton-on-Ouse had been a mere hour and a half drive up the A1(M), and they had been happy to make it, keeping Lou swimming in tea, and Lottie half in love with Liam in no time.

Louis loved flying. He had barely escaped his A-levels with his sanity intact, and his uni experience was less than stellar. He had just wanted to be out. He overloaded whenever he could get away with it, and spent summers taking classes rather than working or partying. It should have been better once he had earned his degree, but Louis felt adrift. He was perfect fodder for a recruiter.

It was the same for Liam. Growing up in the Midlands, Liam had little to look forward to besides a job in a factory making airplane parts. That he could possibly fly one of his own had been a revelation. He was happier than he had ever been, and Louis enjoyed watching him bloom into a confident and capable officer nearly as much as he did getting him to loosen up and have a little fun.

Their first duty station had been RAF Coningsby, back in Lincolnshire with the number 11 squadron of Typhoons. They were fast, agile little dogfighters, capable of both air-to-air and air-to-surface strikes. Louis and Liam excelled, moving up through the ranks to Flying Officer in short time due to Louis’ cut-throat competitive nature and Liam’s drive to be the best in everything he did.

It was nice to be back in Lincolnshire for a while. They knew the place, even most of the people, and it was simply a matter of turning south for Louis’ family to visit. Liam was safe from Lottie’s attentions with her away at uni. It was mostly the little ones who made the journey, and they were shy, though Lou doted on them. Liam was often overwhelmed by Lou’s massive family. His own two sisters were older and starting families of their own. He didn’t see them often. Johanna’s clan made up for it.

It was a year in Lincolnshire before half of Louis’ squadron was transferred to Scotland. The RAF was doing some reorganization, moving much of the force north, consolidating.

Louis and Liam were lucky. They hadn’t had to deploy to Afghanistan, enlisting too late to see the end of Operation Herrick in the Helmand Province. Combat operations had ceased in 2014, but even reconnaissance missions had tapered off by the time they were certified to fly. But the moving around made them anxious. They were young and fresh, but they didn’t have any practical experience compared to those come back from the wars.

Louis felt he needed to up his game, and Liam would too. RAF Leuchars held an air show every year, so they all got spiffed up and shiny and stood about lounging on their aircraft and looking important. It was pretty boring.

“I’m going to make a suggestion,” Louis began idly, tipping his cap at a group of girls passing by.

“To who?” Liam wondered, tugging at his jacket. It was warm for September, and he struggled to appear unaffected.

“ _To whom_ ,” Louis corrected. Liam scrunched up his nose and Louis punched his arm playfully. “To the Group Captain, Chappell.”

“ _Chappell?_ What are you going to say?” Liam asked suspiciously. “Are you going to get us into trouble?”

“Me?” Louis replied innocently, “ _I’m_ not the one who shagged his—“

“I didn’t know!” hissed Liam, affronted. “She was a consenting adult,” he added huffily, not liking to be reminded of his disastrous encounter with the Captain’s daughter. “It only happened the one time,” he muttered.

“Yes, yes, Liam, you’re a gentleman. Quite the Boy Scout, even.”

“So what’s it, then?”

“We should try to spice up the place,” Louis said, throwing his arms wide. “Fewer static displays like this, more action!”

“What did you have in mind?” Liam went to sit on his plane’s front tire, then thought better of it, preemptorially brushing dust off his uniform.

“We should apply to the US Navy Strike Fighter Tactics School.”

“The what?”

“Top Gun.”

***

The Group Captain agreed it was a smashing idea.

***

It went by in a blur. First they were in Scotland, then they were in Nevada. It’s like they couldn’t have found some place more different in the entire world.

The American tactics school was actually quite similar to the British Royal Navy’s Air Warfare Instructor’s School at Lossiemouth, not far from Leuchars in Scotland. The RAF too had something called a qualified weapons instructor, but the training was far longer than the 9 weeks they expected in the states. That was just fine with Lou, whose attention span was fine when he was in his rig, but when he wasn’t, was prone to mischief.

The school itself was mostly what they expected: a lot of hotshot young American arseholes trying to show them up. But Lou and Liam actually trained on the other side of things, in the adversary training course. They learned threat simulation, effective threat presentation, and adversary tactics. They were to take these skills and play the bad guy during what they called “dress rehearsal”, the preparatory missions before the real deal. They would also make impressive aerial displays at air shows, which was what had brought it to Louis’ mind to begin with. He had always been a showman.

The last few weeks in Nevada, they started to run flights against the Americans. Very successfully. Louis was practically beside himself with glee.

***

The good feeling didn’t last long.

***

Louis and Liam returned to Scotland flush with their accomplishments at Top Gun, but they were blindsided with more RAF consolidating. Leuchars was closing. They were moving again.

“I think this is going to be it for me,” Louis declared as he and Liam packed up their flat. Liam carried in a neatly labeled box and added it to the growing pile next to the door.

“What do you mean?” he asked, wiping his sweaty forehead.

“Lossiemouth,” Louis said, “it’s going to be my last duty station.”

“You’re going to retire?” Liam boggled. Louis sighed.

“Probably.”

“But—“ Liam began, his eyebrows drawn down with concern.

“I don’t know, Liam,” Louis shrugged. “We’ll see once we get to Lossiemouth. Might be the best thing ever.”

***

Lossiemouth was enormous. It was one of the RAF’s biggest bases, and the main base for another fighter, the Tornado GR4. Liam and Louis gaped at the long swaths of aircraft arranged neatly along the field. They saw three squadrons of Tornadoes, another of Sea King helicopters, for the search and rescue unit, their own unit slowly filling in with Typhoons, and even an auxiliary unit. Place was mental, and it was now the last remaining RAF base in Scotland.

Single officers’ quarters were at the edge of the sprawling family estate—probably to encourage that sort of thing, Louis thought with a snort. He was still too young to be that cynical, but all of his past relationships had gone down in flames.

Hannah had been lovely, but she didn’t want to go away to uni. Long distance hadn’t worked, for all the effort he had put into it.

Eleanor had been promising. They had dated most of the way through uni, but then she had scored a modeling job and moved to Paris. Louis had been heartbroken.

There had been a series of girls and boys after that who were nothing more than a handful of dates or one night stands. He had even fancied Liam for a while during Basic Fast Jet Training, when they were working hard and getting hot and sweaty. It wasn’t a huge mental leap for Lou to transpose a shirtless Liam into a long hard shag. Liam was well fit. And also very, very straight. Louis, on the other hand, was flexible. He was happy to go wherever his cock led him.

The Americans had been fun, while it lasted.

Lossiemouth was large enough that there was plenty of base housing and Lou and Liam each got their own tiny bungalow. It was strange for Louis. He and Liam had been roommates of a sort for a long time, whether it was the flat they shared in Leuchars, or the grubby barracks with all the young officers. It was lonely, and Louis bounced around his barren little house until he couldn’t stand it.

Lossiemouth was a holiday resort town. Beaches stretched along both north and south, and Louis imagined he would spend a lot of his down time there. Scotland wasn’t exactly known for its quality waves, but Lou liked to surf, and was stubborn enough to at least give it a try. He could see sailboats bobbing at anchor, and a handful of anglers wetting their lines off the pier. He fired off a text to Liam, who loved to fish. They were sure to be out there sooner rather than later, what with Liam’s enthusiastic response.

_fishinnnnnnnn !1!!!! u n me soon yeah???_

It made Louis grin and stuff his mobile back in his pocket. They would definitely go fishing.

Louis’ wandering didn’t take him far. He hadn’t bothered with his car, so that limited him to what he was willing to walk, which was the base and Lossiemouth town. From the sea, Louis found the unofficial aircraft viewing area. There wasn’t an “official” aircraft viewing area at Lossiemouth, but there was an area running along the outer edge of the station where he could see the runways and whatnot.

His rumbling stomach led Louis in search of a pub, and he found the Owl’s Hoot. He raised an eyebrow at the name, but the place seemed homey enough and had free wifi. He texted Liam again.

_busy?_

_tidyin what u doon??_

_eat yet?_

_Nopeeeeee_

Louis sent Liam the pub info and was rewarded with the usual quick text in something that was probably English, promising to meet him in 20. Liam was nothing if not prompt. While he waited, Louis looked around the pub and watched the other patrons. The place was starting to fill up, but Louis didn’t see anyone he recognized. He hated that part of being at a new station. He had to start all over again. At least he had Liam.

***

From then on out they frequented the pub. It was a common hang out for many of the younger officers, though not strictly an officers’ club, which Louis thought were stuffy and pretentious anyway. It was close enough to walk if they wanted to, and they often did, even if Liam only drank more than a pint or two pretty much when it was his birthday or somebody was being promoted.

It was the place where they made their plans. Louis didn’t necessarily forget his declaration to leave the RAF once his time at Lossie was completed, but he also didn’t intend to simply wait it out and sit on his hands in the meantime. They planned to go to Elgin, six miles south, to do things other than go to the supermarket. There was a ruined cathedral from 1224 that Liam was dying to investigate for some reason. There was also a pool, which Louis flat-out refused to consider, given their access to the ocean, and an ice rink when it got colder. They already knew about the small skate park buried in the middle of the larger town park where the local footie played, but they hadn’t had a chance to do much more than check it out and see if it was worth trying out later.

Louis and Liam were both of a friendly sort. Between the two of them, they knew most of their squadron, and then a good chunk of all the others at Lossie besides. But the pilots were an insular group as a rule, and if they weren’t all friends, they were at least on comfortable terms. There was always something to talk about. Pilots were worse than grannies about gossip.

Louis found himself nursing a pint and sulking. Liam had some family thing to attend to in Wolverhampton, and Louis was forced to admit they were terribly codependent. Even though they were no longer roommates, Louis and Liam continued to practically live in each other’s back pockets. So Louis sulked about being left behind.

He startled when someone slumped down on the stool next to him with a huff. The man turned, coolly looking Louis up and down before brusquely ordering a pint. He was intrigued.

“Evening, mate,” Louis offered politely, tipping his glass. His neighbor gladly accepted his beer from the bartender and took a long pull before looking back to Louis.

“That it is,” he said with something like a dejected sigh.

“Troubles?” Louis prompted, trying not to sound too eager. His new friend was incredibly attractive. And Louis was brilliant at soothing someone’s ills. “I’m Louis, by the way.”

“Oh,” the man said, sounding surprised. He wiped his hands on his trousers before he offered one up for a shake. “Sorry. Zayn. It’s a pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you, Zayn,” Louis replied sunnily. Things were looking up. “Are you trapped here at Lossie with the RAF?”

“Not exactly,” Zayn said, clearly trying to decide what, if anything, he was going to say. “I’m an engineer—“

“Ah, a civvie!” Louis declared.

“Quite,” Zayn said with only the barest of eyerolls. “I… wasn’t meant for the military,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly, dragging his fingers through artfully tousled hair. Louis imagined he could artfully tousle him. “I don’t really do well being told what to do.”

“I hear that,” Louis replied, raising his glass in a brief salute to no one in particular. When Zayn did the same, he clinked their glasses together and grinned. “Cheers. So, uh, who pulled rank on you today?”

“Is it that obvious?” Zayn asked.

“Not my first time at the rodeo, mate,” Louis said with a wink. Zayn didn’t bother to suppress the eye roll that time, but he also cracked a tiny smile. Louis took it as a win.

“The boss wants me to re-rig the avionics on this one Tornado that’s been wonky since it came back from the desert,” Zayn went on to explain, “and I can’t do that! I’m in aerosystems, not fucking Hogwarts. Damn thing is full of sand or some shit. Nothing I can do to it will get it up in the air in the time they want it. It needs a complete overhaul!”

“That sucks,” Louis agreed, realizing with a start that he had finished his pint. He ordered another. “So Monday you’re going to go in…”

“And give it a go, yeah,” Zayn said resignedly. “In the meantime, I’m going to drown my sorrows in beer, and have a chat with you until the wife comes.” Louis must have visibly wilted, because Zayn snorted into his pint and giggled and coughed until Louis thought he’d have to pound him on the back. “Sorry, sorry, mate,” he snickered. “Really, though. I’m quite flattered. Married, though,” he stretched his arm out so Louis could see the glint of gold on his finger.

“Lucky girl,” Louis said amiably, slapping Zayn on the back to show no hard feelings.

“Nah,” Zayn said softly, dipping his head and smiling. “Still can’t believe she married me, most days. She’s my sun, my moon, my starlit skies…”

“Poetic,” chirped a little blonde beauty, snaking her arms around Zayn’s neck and kissing him soundly.

“I save it all for you,” Zayn told her. He was lit up like a Christmas tree, and it made something soften inside Lou to see love like that still. “Baby down?”

“Out like a light,” she chortled. “My mum’s got it all taken care of. I need a drink. Who’s your new friend?” Louis reeled at the speed at which the words tumbled out of Mrs. Zayn’s mouth.

“Ah, love, this is Louis. We’ve only just met,” Zayn replied, indicating Louis with a nod. “Louis, this beautiful creature is my wife, Perrie.”

“Stop it, now! You’ll embarrass me,” Perrie cried, blushing. Louis stood and took her hand gently, like the officer and gentleman he was. Perrie was charmed. Louis was really very good at what he did.

“Mrs. Zayn,” he said with a nod and a tip to an invisible hat. She blushed again and turned under Zayn’s arm. Louis sat down very pleased with himself.

“So my darling husband must have been regaling you with his sucktastic day,” Perrie began with a sparkle in her eye. “What is it that you do, Louis?”

“I’m a pilot.”

“Oh? Here at Lossie? Tornado, helo, typhoon?” she rattled off.

“Um, typhoon,” Louis replied, somewhat taken aback. Perrie was a veritable force of nature. “Only just got here. Well, not long ago, anyway.”

“Lovely! You’ll like it here,” she assured him.

“What about you?” Louis asked, turning the table back to them. “What do you do?”

“Dying to get back at it, at the mo,” she said, sounding a touch exasperated.

“You mentioned a new baby?” Louis looked to Zayn for confirmation, who grinned.

“She’s nine weeks old today, and sleeping,” Perrie said proudly. She snaked Zayn’s mobile swiftly out of his jacket pocket and tapped open a photo of Zayn with a tiny pink bundle sporting a tuft of black hair. “Tabassum,” she said lovingly. “It means smile in Urdu. We call her Tabby.”

“She’s beautiful, congratulations,” Louis said sincerely. He loved babies. “You’re home with her then?”

“Her and my mum,” Perrie replied. “But I’m not going to make it a year. I’m bored stiff. I’m a strategic planning specialist. Not very exciting unless you like math, I’m afraid.”

“If she told you more, she’d have to kill you,” Zayn said sagely, smothering his grin. “ _Perrie likes to blow shit up,_ ” he added sotto voce. Perrie smacked his arm.

“Shut up, I do not! ” she squawked, before turning back to Louis. “I need to get back in there. They’re idiots.”

“Every last one of us,” Louis agreed, raising his glass once more and draining it. “Til the very end.”

“Have you had a chance to blend in much? Get to know anyone?” Perrie asked. Louis shrugged. “How would you like to come to ours for a barbecue? Meet the lads.”

“I’d love to.”

***

Perrie and Zayn had a little house in Elgin, not far from the station. The week between meeting them at the pub and then attending their garden party, Louis had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Perrie had told him to bring someone, but then Louis had laughed and told them it was likely to be Liam and that they were both single. Perrie’s eyes lit up with some sort of malicious glee, and Louis had a moment where he feared for his health and safety. Damn marrieds always wanted everyone else to share their pain.

The day dawned bright and clear, at least for Scotland’s standards. Liam popped over early and prodded Louis until he finished getting ready. Some days Louis mourned for his pre-RAF haircut. It had been swoopy and fluffy and shaggy and _silky_ for fucks sake. And he’d had options. At least with his Queen’s Regulation cut it saved him some time and he only had to worry about which trousers to pair with which shirt. That took enough time as it was, until Liam was practically dancing with anxiety and flapping at it to move along.

There was a good number of vehicles lining the street once Louis and Liam arrived, maybe half a dozen. Louis sighed with relief. It truly was a small affair, not an _event_. Whereas Liam would enter a new situation tentatively, carefully, until he was comfortable, Louis generally went in the other direction. He knew he could be over the top—alright, kind of obnoxious—but it usually worked out in the end. He loved people, and people loved him.

Zayn opened the door holding baby Tabby, grinning toothily at Louis’ reflexive reaction to her. He sagged a little, head tilting to the side, a ridiculous look on his face as he tried—and failed—to stop himself from reaching for her. Liam laughed outright.

“Happens every time,” he said, shaking his head. “I think he missed his calling. Should have been a nanny or summat. I’m Liam, thank you for having us.”

Zayn laughed as he gingerly passed the baby into Louis’ waiting arms.

“Thank you for coming,” Zayn replied, grasping Liam in a friendly two-handed greeting. The one that’s midway between a simple handshake and a full-on hug. Liam smiled happily and followed Zayn and Louis through the house to the back garden.

A woman with a massive pouf of blonde hair guarded the grill, as Perrie flitted around her. Zayn confirmed it was her mum and skirted around them, much to Louis’ amusement. There were several clusters of people chatting, and Zayn pointed them out as he doled out drinks for them all.

“Over there, those are our neighbors, Paul and Clodagh. Their kids are running around here somewhere.”

“Hello, darling,” a voice purred at Louis’ shoulder. He turned to find a beautiful girl with a riot of curls smiling at him. Well, smiling at the baby. She stole Tabby away with a cheeky wink, leaving Louis a little stunned.

“That was Leigh Anne,” Zayn chuckled, “Perrie’s friend.”

“Pretty,” Louis said absently, staring after her.

“Yeah?” Zayn smirked.

“Yeah,” Liam added, nodding enthusiastically. They all three laughed. Louis’ and Liam’s taste often overlapped. Made it interesting sometimes, but Louis usually backed off and let Liam pursue the women.

“Those other two are Jesy and Jade,” Zayn said, gesturing vaguely over to where baby-snatching Leigh Anne had headed. “Jade works with Perrie, but I don’t remember where she knows Jesy from,” he added with a shrug.

“Single?” Liam asked half into his cup to keep the volume down. Liam was stealthy.

“Pretty sure,” Zayn replied, “though I’d have to check with Perrie to be positive.”

Liam hummed into his cup and Louis chuckled happily. Liam on the pull was fantastic theater. Women loved him, and Liam loved being in a relationship. He always seemed more content when he had a girlfriend. Not only was he getting laid on the regular, but he liked having someone to take care of, at least in the most general sense. It had been a long time since Liam had a real girlfriend. Louis wished him the best of luck.

Zayn steered them toward another group.

“Lads, these are Louis and Liam, new to Lossie,” Zayn told them. “These are some mates from the engineering shop. Sandy, Jon, Josh, Dan,” he indicated with a gesture of his cup. Louis smiled at nodded in greeting.

“Mate, you look just like Elijah Wood!” Liam declared to Dan. Louis thought it was Dan. The one on the end, dark hair, did indeed look kind of like Elijah Wood if he thought about it. Dan threw back his head and laughed heartily.

“I’ve been told, yeah, once or twice,” he agreed. “I did love Lord of the Rings.”

“Me too!” Liam agreed. Louis noted the slight lean and half step closer they all made that indicated an intense conversation to erupt and made to escape with Zayn.

The back door banged shut, announcing the arrival of another guest, catching Zayn’s attention. Perrie was closer, so she went to greet him.

“Ed!”

“Perrie! My love! Have you decided to leave that husband of yours and run away with me yet?”

“Not yet, not yet,” Perrie laughed, hugging him. “Did you bring your guitar?”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful! Come along and…” her voice trailed off as she and Ed made their way to the other side of the garden.

“That’s Ed,” Zayn said simply. “He’s another neighbor. Great child minder. All his songs are depressing as shit and they knock Tabby right out.”

“He’s a musician? Is he in a band then?” Louis asked interestedly.

“No, although sometimes he’ll play somewhere just for fun,” Zayn replied. “He’s a songwriter. Holed up here in the north of Scotland where no one is like to bother him. Much.”

“Have I heard anything of his?” Louis wondered, sipping at his beer.

“Oh, definitely. I’ll have to give you some of his stuff. I think I have some on a flash drive,” Zayn said.

“Brilliant. Thanks, mate,” Louis said.

“I think everyone’s here now except—“ the door slammed again, and Zayn looked up, bobbing his head knowingly. “Harry and Niall. Oh, and Barbara. We weren’t sure if she could come. Come on, let’s get you acquainted.”

There were a few moments of hugging and enthusiastic back slapping all around. They acted like they hadn’t seen each other in ages, but something about them told Louis that these two were from Lossie as well, so it couldn’t have been very long at all, unless they had been deployed. Louis hadn’t heard about any deployments from Lossie lately. That stuff got around.

Zayn finally emerged looking a little ruffled. He had an arm slung around the shoulders of a friendly looking blondish fellow, and a frankly stunningly beautiful woman.

“Louis, this one on my left is Barbara, and this one on my right is Niall, her completely undeserving significant other,” Zayn announced with a happy grin.

“You can say boyfriend, Zayn,” Barbara said, reaching over to shake Louis’ hand. She was clearly the most beautiful woman in Scotland.

“It sounds like you’re twelve,” Zayn complained, to their laughter.

“Say fiancé then,” Niall suggested, giving Louis’ hand a proper good shake while never taking his eyes off Barbara.

“Niall. What—“ Barbara grabbed a fistful of Niall’s shirt and dragged him back into the house.

“Um,” Louis said, feeling stupid.

“I think…” Zayn frowned.

“I think we just witnessed a rather untraditional proposal, my love,” Perrie said softly, coming up behind him and hooking her chin over his shoulder and smiling beatifically. Zayn tipped his head against hers. They were a gorgeous couple.

“Do we have any champagne in the house?” Zayn asked her.

“I think so. In the pantry. Think I can sneak in without disturbing them?”

“Ew, I hope they aren’t shagging on the kitchen floor,” Zayn grimaced. Perrie smacked him and tiptoed up to the door, peeking her head in before dashing inside. Zayn followed her.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” said the third of that party, completely overlooked in the flurry of excitement.

“Oh, oh! Louis. I’m Louis Tomlinson, it’s very nice to meet you,” Louis said all in a rush. “How do you know Zayn?”

“From Lossie,” he said, voice deep and rich and slow like molasses. It made Louis’ skin tingle. “We’ve worked on the flightline together for years now. I’m a pilot in the XV; Niall’s my RIO.”

“Tornadoes.”

“Right.”

“Brilliant,” Louis replied with a widening smile. “I’m a pilot too. In the 6th.”

“Typhoons,” Harry clarified.

“Right,” Louis replied, brighter. “Relocated, from Leuchars.”

“Fresh blood,” Harry said cheekily, “excellent.”

“So my mate Liam and I,” Louis gestured to Liam over in the cluster of engineers, all talking animatedly about _something_ , “looked like we needed some friends. Zayn and Perrie took pity on us.”

“They have a radar for that, I think.”

“Would seem so, yes,” Louis agreed. Harry plucked a beer out of the cooler with long, elegant fingers, and Louis watched as he struggled with the cap. “Here,” he said, handing him the bottle opener.

“Not a twister,” Harry scowled before taking a long drink. He had a lovely long neck. He appeared to be long and lean all over, in fact. Louis took a drink of his own. He suddenly needed it.

“Food!” someone shouted.

Louis looked around for Zayn and Perrie, but they hadn’t emerged from the house yet. Neither had Niall and Barbara. Perrie’s mum rushed by, carrying the baby and trying to balance condiments in her other hand. Harry deftly snagged little Tabby.

“Here, let me take her, mum,” he said sweetly, tucking the baby snugly against his chest. 

“Thank you, Dirty,” she said, absently patting him on the cheek as she passed by. “You’re a lovely boy.”

Harry blushed a little and Louis was charmed. He felt a twinge in his gut and he was sure that if he had ovaries he’d be spontaneously ovulating by now. Somebody attractive holding a baby and Louis was a goner. That’s what he got for growing up with a mother who was a midwife. Babies were his kryptonite.

“Um, Dirty?” Louis wondered, watching Harry pat Tabby’s tiny back gently.

“Oh,” he said, blushing again. “’S my call sign, yeah? She thinks it’s funny. Only one off the flightline who calls me that, but I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, we don’t usually get that much, off the line,” Louis agreed. “The Americans are big on it though. Won’t call you anything else. Like, ever. Took me forever to start answering to my own name again.”

“Spent some time in the States?” Harry asked, sitting down on the edge of the patio in a shady spot so the baby wouldn’t get too much sun.

“A little,” Louis admitted, “don’t want to sound like I’m bragging…”

“Too late,” Harry said, eyes glittering with humor. Louis sat down and nudged him with his knee.

“Liam and I went to Top Gun.”

“Oh ho, aren’t you something special then,” Harry teased. Louis found himself blushing, ducking his head away to hide it. “Tabby’s asleep. Have you seen her…”

“Her thinger is over there under that umbrella,” Louis pointed out. Harry slowly stood and walked over to deposit the sleeping baby in the set up they had made for her outside. Louis stood and waited for him to come back. 

The party quieted down some while everyone enjoyed their hamburgers and sausages. Zayn and Perrie appeared shortly, bearing three bottles of champagne. Perrie quickly looked in on the baby, then helped Zayn fill everyone’s cups. Niall and Barbara still hadn’t come out, but from what they could tell on their brief foray inside, everything was going well.

Harry snickered and plucked at his lip.

“Um, Perrie,” he said softly as she neared him.

“Yes, love?”

“You’ve got a little, uh…” he dabbed at his mouth again, prompting Perrie to do the same where her lipstick was smeared. “There you go,” he said with a wink. She smacked him on the back of the head and purposely passed him by. Zayn filled his cup with champagne instead. “Zayn. Good work.”

Zayn smirked and sat down, looking very pleased with himself.

“Whenever she’ll let me, mate,” he said, grinning and biting his tongue at Harry.

***

Everyone raised a toast to Niall and Barbara when they finally saw fit to grace the party once more. Their cheeks were pink, and they were smiling shyly, and they couldn’t take their hands off each other.  
The lads from Lossie cheered and hooted until Niall’s blush turned smug. Barbara was the most beautiful woman in Scotland-- _the world!_ Niall amended quickly, and he was indeed a lucky, lucky man.

***

It took another night at the pub to really get acquainted with Niall. He was Irish, and Louis was mystified as to how he ended up in the RAF. It was simple, really.

“I wanted to fly,” Niall said.

“And you… couldn’t do that in Ireland?” Liam wondered.

“Ever hear about the Irish Air Force?” Niall asked in return.

“Um. Well. No.”

“Nor will ya,” Niall stated definitively. Harry slung his arm around Niall’s neck and pressed a smacking kiss to his temple.

“Now he’s ours,” Harry declared, “and we’ll not give him back.”

Harry loved Niall.

Their story was much like that of Louis and Liam. They had been partnered together for much of their careers, so now they were inseparable. They had begun at RAF Marham, in Norfolk, where they learned their aircraft and ended up stationed there for several years before they landed at Lossiemouth. Quite unlike the bouncing around Louis and Liam had done.

Their aircraft, too, was very similar. Tornadoes were multi-role fast jet ground attack aircraft. Like the Typhoons, they could act as fighters, but very often they were used for reconnaissance activity. That type of flying wasn’t necessarily as exciting, but it was equally as important.

At Lossiemouth, the XV Squadron was part of the Operational Conversion Unit. They taught pilots how to fly, and the tactics to use to best exploit their performance. Niall explained that while he and Harry had trained to fly at Marham, it was not uncommon. Roughly half of the tornado crews did, while the rest came to Lossie. At Lossie, though, that was where the more advanced training occurred. Harry and Niall were a top notch pair, even having been _invited_ to attend Top Gun one year. Unfortunately, they’d had to decline, as Harry’s nan had died and his mother was left in quite a legal tangle.

Niall and Harry quite enjoyed Lossiemouth. They lived in the tiny bungalows that made up the officers’ quarters as well, and the four of them spent some quality time arguing with each other where exactly their place was with respect to the others. They all looked exactly the same. For someone whose job it was to operate a high speed vehicle, Harry had a startling lack of sense of direction.

“’S why they make GPS,” he muttered.

“Can’t find his own arse with both hands,” Niall chortled with glee.

“ _Awww_ ,“ Harry pouted.

“Oh, you don’t need to be finding your own arse when somebody else could be doing it for you, couldn’t they?” Niall said soothingly, patting him on the back. Louis agreed. _Silently_ of course. Harry had a tight little arse.

Harry sulked into his pint for a few minutes, then visibly shook it off and made to change the subject.

“Liam, what are your feelings about golf?” he asked, his head tilted charmingly, just so. He waited patiently as Liam gathered his thoughts.

“I’ve been known to play a round or two,” Liam answered cheerfully. “Do you play often? How are the courses here up north?”

“Oh, quite good, and I go often enough,” Harry said, settling back happily in his chair, “when I can. You should come too. We’re not very good, but, you know.”

“Just an excuse to wear ugly trousers,” Niall said with a wink, stabbing his elbow into Harry’s side. “Not that you need one.”

“Heyyyyyyy,” Harry drawled, scowling. “See if I ask you next time. Liam’s my man from now on; right, Liam?”

They cheered, crashing their pints together over the table between them hard enough to startle Harry and delight Niall. His jubilant laughter was infectious, and Louis soon found himself clutching his belly and gasping for breath.

“I feel a bit left out, lads, if I do say so,” Louis added, working his saddest puppy face.

“Doesn’t play, that one,” Liam said, jabbing his thumb in Louis’ general direction. Niall’s face fell, and Harry nodded solemnly. Louis shrugged.

“More of a footie man, meself,” he put in. “Bit more action.” He stifled the impulse to wink cheekily at Harry. Pointed it at Niall instead. Harry groaned.

“I’m _terrible_ at football,” Harry lamented. 

“Not all of us can be golden boot,” Louis said, and patted his hand. The urge to touch him had grown too great. He was trying to be casual, but all he wanted was to look at Harry, touch him, get his hands and mouth on him. It was excruciating. And exhausting.

***

They ended up playing football together in the park on base most weekends, after that. Niall had a sketchy knee as a result of a tumble from the egress ladder. Because, according to a cackling Harry, he was too busy trying to impress the girls on the ground crew to pay attention to where his feet went. But he would play most times too.

They played to stay fit. Louis played to win. They should have been more careful. All it took was one bad tackle to bring Niall down.

He lay in the grass clutching his knee to his chest, emitting a low moan that made the hair on the back of their necks stand up.

“Come on then, mate,” Liam said jauntily, jogging over with Harry to see what all the commotion was about. Niall groaned, and Harry was close enough to see his face and scramble to his side. Liam glanced at Louis and they shared a look. “Bit melodramatic, innit?”

Harry’s head whipped around to deliver a withering stare, albeit brief. He crouched next to his partner, murmuring soothingly while Zayn phoned ahead to the medics. With that, Harry and Niall found themselves grounded, and Louis was wracked with guilt.

***

“How did you get your call signs, then?” Niall asked brightly, shifting on his crutches and looking longingly at his pint on the bar.

“Oh, so we’re having that conversation, are we?” Lou replied, squinting suspiciously. Pilots’ call signs were notoriously awful, usually referring to something stupid or embarrassing, or both.

“Why not?” Liam asked, giving Louis a nudge.

“Why don’t you go first then, Liam?” Lou suggested. “Only man in the world who actually likes his call sign.”

“Really, Liam?” Harry put in. “Go on, tell it then.”

“Alright, so,” Liam took a deep breath and settled in for a story. “Before we went to America, we were just Tommo and Payno,” he began, pausing to look around at the group. They nodded for him to continue. “But the Americans, they were like, nah, that’s boring, mate. Or whatever. So we went on, and one night we were all out at the pub, and, you know, pretty drunk…”

“Of course,” Niall agreed, waving Liam on.

“And I don’t know, I said something, and this one lad said, dude, who _are_ you?” Liam’s deep Southern American accent was terrible, and they all laughed. Louis put down his pint and flapped his hands for attention.

“So Liam sits up straight, like, and puffs up a bit, and goes, _I’m Batman._ ” Lou’s impression of Liam was spot on. Liam merely shrugged while the others roared with laughter and slapped at each other.

“What about you?” Liam asked Zayn when he came up for air.

“Sloth?” Zayn confirmed needlessly. They all knew it, naturally. “That’s easy. I like to sleep. Tommo?”

“Um, why don’t we—“ Louis tried to deflect. His call sign was horrid, and he hated it, as was right and proper to do, _Liam_. But the lads started up a chant, thumping in time on the table.

“ _Tom-mo! Tom-mo! Tom-mo!_ ”

“Alright! Alright! Settle down, you heathens,” Louis said crossly, though he wasn’t really. He took a deep breath and another drink.

“Quit stalling, you wanker,” Harry goaded.

“I am English,” he said primly, “and I drink quite a lot of tea.”

“Your face wouldn’t turn that shade of purple if that’s all it was!” Niall guessed.

“True,” Liam added, tipping his bottle in Niall’s direction.

“ _Liam!_ ” Louis hissed fiercely.

“What?” he replied innocently. Or drunkenly. Regardless.

“What did you _do?_ ” Zayn breathed, dark eyes glittering. Louis wanted to crawl under the table.

“It wasn’t my finest moment.”

“Clearly,” Liam added happily. Louis hit him in the shoulder. Hard.

“It was another night out at the pub,” Louis began hesitantly.

“Did you do any actual flying in America?” Harry teased.

“Quite a lot, fuck you very much,” Louis said, tossing his head. “So I pull this bloke, right? Wasn’t one of ours at Fallon, so I didn’t feel the need for very much stealth about it, you know?”

“Discretion, Tommo,” Zayn said, tapping the side of his nose.

“Right, Zee. Sure,” Louis fought the urge to roll his eyes. Zayn and his wife were known for disappearing at random intervals and reappearing looking disheveled and satisfied. Louis didn’t want to hear it. “ _Anyway,_ we’re in the toilet and I’m just getting around to sucking him off proper when—“ Their yelling and howling brought the story to a quick end. Louis figured they got the idea. “Haven’t been able to get the tower to call me anything else since. Fucking Americans.”

Niall nodded sagely.

“I like it,” he said. “Teabag. It’s fitting.”

“Fuck you too, Nialler,” Louis tossed back at him. Niall just grinned and saluted him with his beer.

“What about you two?” Liam asked, gesturing to the last of them. “Do I even want to know? I’m kind of afraid.”

Harry barked out a laugh.

“No, it’s nothing like Teab—“ Harry sputtered when Louis threw a handful of crisps at him. “Not at all bad. It just sounds that way.”

“Uh huh,” Louis added skeptically.

“We flew some recon with an American unit a couple years ago, back when the thing…” Harry waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. Louis tossed another crisp to get him moving on. Harry’s stories were endless. “And we were at the pub, getting to know everyone, as these things go—“

“And they couldn’t understand a single fucking thing come out of my yap,” Niall finished. “Bloody Americans. Said I reminded them of that one wretched Brad Pitt film.”

“Ohhhhh,” Liam said, catching on. “ _Snatch._ I was sure it was going to be something dirty. Like, you know, _Dirty_.”

“No, no, not even that!” Harry chortled, pleased with himself. Of course Harry didn’t mind his call sign. Harry _Okay_ Styles. “I had a little bit of leave, enough to go off base and look around, but not much else. So I came back, and I guess it was something about what I was wearing. Jeans and a hat. And another storm was coming in, so nobody was flying, just sitting around the hangar, and they said I looked like Dirty Harry. Not anything embarrassing or sexual at all.”

Not at all, Louis thought. Not at all.

***

Louis opened the door of his quarters to find Harry fidgeting on the step.

“Fancy a round of golf?” he asked hopefully, looking up through his eyelashes in a most fetching manner.

“Not at all,” Louis replied. Harry’s shoulders slumped and Louis felt compelled to invite him in. “Do you skate?” Harry just looked mildly confused as he passed by, and then stumbled over Lou’s jumble of shoes. “Hmmm, perhaps we’d best not.”

“No,” Harry agreed, noting Louis’ battered skateboard deck propped against the wall. “Last time I tried I came away with a broken arm. Not an experience I’d like to repeat, if you don’t mind. Especially now,” Harry sighed. “Niall has to have surgery on his knee. Wouldn’t do to have us both out of commission.”

Louis patted Harry on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Now now, Hazza. Don’t get yourself down.” Harry flopped down on the sofa and sighed again, dramatically.

“I’m less than useless on the ground, Lou,” Harry groaned, spreading out and practically sinking into the cushions. “I learned to fly before I could drive.”

“Did you now?” Louis said, interested. Harry nodded. “How’s that then?”

“My father got me lessons. Partly to give me something to do, and partly to rile up my mum,” Harry explained. Louis sat down beside him. “They were divorced when I was quite little, you see, and for the most part it was friendly. At least friendly for divorced people, I guess. But then my mum started dating Robin—he’s my stepdad now, yeah? And that kind of, I don’t know…”

“Yeah, I get that,” Louis put in. “My mum’s on her third husband.” Harry’s eyebrows shot up and Louis laughed. “Yeah, it’s ridiculous. At least she’s of an age now where I won’t be expecting any more brothers and sisters,” he chuckled. “The little ones are five now—no, six! Aw, shit, I think I missed a birthday.”

“Will you be in quite a lot of trouble, do you think?” Harry asked, genuinely concerned.

“No, no, I’m sure my mum made up for it,” Louis said with a wave of his hand. “They don’t really think of me as their brother, I think. More an uncle, I’m so much older. I was twenty-two when they were born, you see.”

“ _They?_ ”

“Oh, sorry. I always assume everyone knows my whole life story like Liam does,” Louis said.

“Well, I’m fairly certain I do know Liam’s,” Harry replied.

“ _Liam’s?_ ”

“Golf.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Louis said, nodding. Golf is a really long game for which he had little patience. They had discussed it. “So, anyway, the twins: Dory and Ned.” Louis dug his mobile out of his back pocket and quickly flicked open a photograph. “My mum hates it when I call him that.” He pitched his voice high in imitation: “ _Louis, it’s Ernest, not Ned!_ ” 

They laughed, and Harry craned his neck to see the picture better.

“Aw, they’re cute.”

“Good thing, they’re right bastards.” Harry gaped a little, but Louis smirked at him. “Spoiled to the core, those two. Him the only boy—well, besides me, of course—and four older sisters to dote on them.”

“Four!” Harry exclaimed.

“Yes, well,” Louis shrugged. What are you going to do.

“I have one,” Harry shared, reaching for his own mobile to do the same routine. The photograph he chose showed two beautiful dark-haired women, cheek to cheek and smiling wide. Clearly Harry’s sister and mother.

“You could be twins,” Louis said, looking down at the picture and back up at Harry.

“Gem’s older,” Harry replied fondly. “And a girl,” he laughed, elbowing Louis in the ribs.

“I’ve never been attracted to an entire family before,” Louis muttered distractedly. Harry barked out a laugh beside him. “Um.”

“Nah, s’alright mate,” Harry said, blushing a little. Louis found it entirely too cute and shook his head to get the thought out. It didn’t work, but then it never did.

Louis leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to Harry’s mouth as he looked down at the phone in his hands. He had that moment of gut-wrenching fear that Harry would reject him. Push him away and punch him in the face before storming out. But he didn’t.

Harry kissed him back. He turned in to it, gingerly reaching out to set his mobile on the table, then curling his long fingers along Louis’ jaw. Louis relaxed, sighing against Harry’s lips and feeling the curve of his smile in return.

***

Niall had to have surgery on his knee, so Harry drove him. It wasn’t supposed to be a long procedure, arthroscopic, but cartilage was a tricky business, so Harry worried. They all did, sitting there in hospital, waiting for the doctor to come out. But Harry was the worst of them. He paced the floor incessantly, chewing on the tips of his fingers until Zayn put a cup of tea in his hands.

“You’re worse than his mam,” Zayn remarked, returning to his own hard plastic seat.

“Well she’s not here, is she?” Harry snapped. Zayn scowled, but Perrie put her hand on his arm and he glanced contritely at her before settling down and drawing her under his arm. “I’m sorry,” Harry said softly, “he’s just—he’s my RIO. He’s special. He has to be ok.”

Louis stood and grasped Harry’s arm, gently steering him down the hallway.

“Come on, let’s burn off some energy,” he suggested softly. Harry balked.

“But—“ he jerked around, looking balefully through the tiny window in the door across the room. There was nothing to see. “What if he—“

“The doctors have it all under control, Hazza,” Louis said soothingly. “We’re not actually going anywhere, just down the hall here a bit, and back. Is that ok?”

Harry nodded shakily and took a hesitant step. He looked up and met Louis’ eyes; he was tired, and the strain showed on his face.

“Come on, mate,” Louis said with a tentative smile. But Harry let him guide him with a steady palm at his back, and they slowly made their way down the corridor.

They both missed Zayn’s raised eyebrow, and Liam’s returning shrug.

***

Harry insisted on staying at hospital not merely until Niall came out of surgery. They had to wait to make sure he came out of anesthesia properly, then that Barbara had been allowed in to see him and report that all was well. Only then would he permit the lads to convince him it was time to go home. Zayn was half asleep, and even the perpetually jovial Liam was cranky and snappish.

Louis snatched glances at Harry as he drove him back to his bungalow. He could see the strain in the lines around his eyes and across his forehead. He was pale, and a little sweaty.

“Tired?” Louis asked softly, not really expecting more than a shrug in reply.

“Yeah,” Harry said, voice low and gravelly. “Relieved, though. Niall’s going to get better, and we’ll soon be cleared to fly again.”

“Of course,” Louis said soothingly. He smiled, watching the road, but he could see the slow grin spread across Harry’s face out of the corner of his eye.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Louis wondered, glancing over.

“For being there,” Harry replied, “for being a good friend.”

“Course, mate.”

Louis took a deep breath as he eased the car into the narrow drive in front of Harry’s house. Harry unbuckled his seatbelt, then fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. When he looked up, he seemed thoughtful.

“Would you like to come in?” he said after a moment.

“Alright.”

Louis climbed out of his car and followed Harry up the walk to his door, waiting while he fumbled with his keys. The bolt turned with a lurch and Harry had to force the door open with his shoulder.

“Sticks,” he said, glancing back sheepishly.

“You can get that fixed, you know,” Louis pointed out. “Put in a work order with Grounds.”

“Hasn’t been on the top of my list,” Harry admitted with a shrug, pushing the door wide so Louis could enter.

“What has been?” Louis asked cheekily, hoping to lighten Harry’s mood.

“ _Niall_ ,” he said, rolling his eyes. But then he grinned, and Louis felt satisfied. “You.”

Louis’ eyebrows shot up for a second.

“Really.”

“Really.”

Harry’s keys clattered into a dish on a little table just inside. It was jarring, as Louis pushed the door closed behind him but stayed close, clutching the handle with both hands behind his back. His heart hammered with the urge to run that rarely came upon him any more. Danger didn’t really phase him; apparently Harry did.

Harry’s eyes flashed as he looked at Louis. He grinned and peeled off the sinful leather jacket he’d been sporting, hanging it neatly on a hook on the wall. He jerked his head toward the lounge just inside.

“Come on.”

“Right. Ok.” Louis took a shaky breath and followed.

Harry headed straight for a console along the far side of the lounge.

“Would you like to see my etchings?” he asked. Louis snorted and choked.

“Like, seriously?”

Harry turned and looked at him oddly.

“ _Yes,_ ” he said, slowly and carefully. He held a slim packet in his hands.

“Good lord, I’m an idiot,” Louis said to himself, rubbing his eyes.

“What did you think I mea—“ Harry cut himself off with a bark of laughter and flopped down onto his sofa. “ _Would you like to come up and see my etchings?_ ” he cackled. 

Louis glanced back at the door hesitantly.

“Um, I’m just gonna…”

“No, no, please,” Harry gasped. All the hairs on Louis’ body stood on end. To hear him say that again, under different circumstances; where he felt less ridiculous. “Stay,” Harry said, calmer. “Please, sit down.”

Louis perched carefully on the edge of Harry’s sofa while he gently extracted several flat pieces of metal.

“I just got these,” Harry explained. “They’re etching plates, for making prints. Fairly early, pre-20th Century. It was quite toxic. You can still smell it!” he added cheerfully, holding the copper plate closer to Louis.

Louis squawked and leaned away, and Harry giggled like a naughty child.

“I’d rather not, thank you,” Louis said skeptically.

“No worries,” Harry replied as he slipped the plates back in their packaging and rose to place them back in the cabinet. “I want to frame them and put them out, along with some of my photographs.”

“Are you an artist too, then, Harold?” Louis wondered. “Is that why you’ve brought me here?”

Harry grinned and stopped on his way back to look at a print on the wall.

“Naturally,” he said, his dimples distracting from the photos of sky and clouds as his smile grew larger and larger as Louis stood to examine them more closely. “And then I’d planned to seduce you. Fancy a go?”

Louis felt like his eyebrows were never going to retreat to their regular position on his face. Harry faced him finally, thoroughly pleased with himself. He grabbed Louis’ hand and led him deeper into the house.

“Seriously?” Louis asked him again, half incredulous and half amused. And half turned on. Too many halves. _Completely turned on._ “These are your moves?”

Harry threw his head back and laughed as he pulled Louis behind him into his dim bedroom.

“Is it working?” Harry wondered, turning and running his hands smoothly down Louis’ arms, from his shoulders to his fingertips. He leaned in expectantly, waiting, his green eyes black in the faint light.

“Brilliant, mate.”

They stepped together, the second kiss even better than the first. Louis already felt too hot. Harry’s hands on his face and in his hair made his skin tingle and he wanted them everywhere. Louis dragged him closer, accidentally flicking out the tail end of Harry’s belt, then deciding to just go with it.

Harry’s belt clinked along with his stuttered breath. He took one step backwards, then two, his hands roaming and finally sweeping up underneath Louis’ t-shirt to skate across his skin.  
Louis pulled away from Harry’s mouth to catch a breath.

“Come on, then,” he rasped, and helped Harry pull his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, followed by Harry’s.

Harry sat abruptly to kick off his shoes, then jumped up again to squirm out of his jeans. Louis paused in untying his shoes, fumbling with the knots. Harry’s crotch was at face level and Louis ended up sprawled on the floor.

“Would you rather be down there?” Harry laughed, tucking the tips of his fingers into the waistband of his pants.

“No, no, I just—“ he huffed in frustration and yanked off the offending shoe, tossing it to the side. Harry extended a hand and tugged Louis to his feet, pulling him close by his belt loops and nuzzling him gently. 

“You’re still mostly dressed,” Harry said, his breath fanning softly over Louis’ skin, making him shiver.

“Not for long,” Louis smirked, going in for another kiss as he and Harry worked his trousers down to his thighs and letting them fall.

Louis kicked the fabric away and pushed Harry until he stumbled back and climbed on the bed, his long, elegant fingers reaching out and urging Louis to follow. Harry pulled him down to lay on his side next to him, close enough to capture Louis’ mouth again, then closer, so their chests and then their hips bumped together.

Harry’s arms snaked around his back, easing them closer still until they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Louis shook as Harry’s hands skated across his skin, cupping his bum and holding him firm as he rolled his hips, making them both groan.

“Let’s see you naked,” Louis suggested, tugging at the elastic of Harry’s pants.

Harry grinned lecherously and rolled onto his back, his pants off in a flash of color before he reached for Louis again. 

“Wait,” Louis said, stalling Harry’s movement with a hand firm on his waist. “Let me look at you.” Harry blushed charmingly, ducking his chin and letting his long lashes smudge his cheeks before he stretched his arms above his head to give Louis his view. “’ow do, darlin’,” he said softly, skimming his knuckles up Harry’s side and down his chest, “you’re quite fit-- _Jesus!_ that’s summat.”

Harry giggled and squirmed as Louis gaped. Harry knew what he looked like naked, and liked seeing how others did too. His tattoos stood out sharply from his fair skin, and the slight dip of his waist was enough to lead the eye down to his cock. The rest often followed.

“Ta,” Harry replied, stretching a bit just to see Louis’ eyes darken. “Now you.” 

Louis’ jaw clicked shut and his pants flew off in the same general direction as Harry’s had. There was a pause, a moment where they just looked at each other and didn’t make a move.

“Gonna jus’—?“ 

“What?” Harry cut in, finally reaching out to pull Louis up against him. “What do you want?”

“God, I—“ Louis’ squeezed Harry’s hip, then slipped down to grasp his length, tentative at first, but watching Harry’s eyes flutter shut and his hands clench reflexively, he gained confidence.

Harry tilted forward and captured Louis’ mouth with his own, groaning at the slight angle change. He nudged Louis’ leg to reach him better and shuddered when he threw his leg over his thigh and dragged them closer.

“I want—“ turned into a groan as Louis shifted and tugged them together. “Your _hands_ , Lou.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked breathlessly, bumping his nose against Harry’s until he kissed him again. “You’re a pretty lad.”

“Get off,” Harry threw back, nipping at Louis’ shoulder.

“I’m trying!” he teased, yelping when Harry rolled them and Louis ended up astride his thighs.

“This is lovely,” Harry said, pleased with himself. “Your arse is amazing. Come here.” He reached up and pulled Louis down by the back of his neck until he could mouth at his skin some more.

Louis gave up wanking them to lean down and grind their hips together instead. He urged Harry up, to sit up a bit more and rest on his elbows, the pressure better, the slide easier, and Louis could reach to get a fist full of just-long-enough-to-pull hair. Harry’s head tilted into it, his eyes slipped shut and his mouth fell open on a groan that vibrated through Louis’ core.

“Like that?” Louis asked, tightening his fist.

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry gasped, his entire body trembling. “Just like that, Lou. Almost there.”

A few more thrusts against his hip and Harry’s cock jerked between them. He let out a long, low moan as he shuddered through it. Louis followed him over the edge when Harry opened his eyes. He was just so beautiful, flushed and damp with sweat. Louis couldn’t help it.

***

Niall was home recovering for three days before he allowed any of the lads to visit. Harry scurried over as soon as he was able, while the others stopped by as their schedules allowed. Louis carefully schooled his face into what he hoped looked like curious sympathy when a visibly harried Barbara let him in.

“I may have to kill him,” she muttered with a sigh, and Louis broke, giggling into his hand. Barbara shot him a look that made him snap to attention and be grateful she didn’t have laser eyes. “Shut it, you prat. He’s a terrible patient. I’m ready to ship him to his mum in a crate.”

“Give him a pint?” Louis suggested.

“Not on painkillers I’m not!” Barbara laughed. “I’m not _actually_ trying to kill him.”

Louis hung back as they neared the bedroom where Niall held court. Barbara glanced questioningly at him, then nodded, gesturing him ahead.

“Go on,” she said softly. “It’ll do you both good.”

***

Niall was out on medical leave for a week before he was allowed back out to the crew room. He had up to two months of physiotherapy to complete before he would be cleared to fly again, but he could do paperwork—loudly—and train, and study, and make everyone around him crazy. His clearance would come none too soon.

***

“Tell me about one,” Louis said, lips brushing against Harry’s inked skin. “One with a story.”

They lay sprawled out on Harry’s bed, sun streaming in through the windows as Louis explored Harry’s body with his mouth, tracing each tattoo with the tip of his tongue.

“Most of them don’t have much of a story to tell,” Harry said distractedly. He shivered as Louis licked along the wings of the moth on his abs.

“One of them must,” Louis insisted, and Harry sighed.

“You make it hard to think.”

“I make lots of things hard,” Louis replied with a smirk and a roll of his hips. Harry groaned and closed his eyes, but the fond smile belied the gesture.

“Ok, ok, this one,” Harry jabbed at the dark star, high up on his left arm.

“What is it?”

“It’s a _star_ ,” Harry said bluntly, yelping as Louis’ teeth sunk in his flesh.

“I can see that,” Louis said, mouthing tenderly at the red spot he created. “Why did you get it then?”

“The Marham Squadron badge is a star,” Harry explained. His fingers curled around the back of Louis’ skull, scratching gently as Louis’ mouth continued to move across Harry’s skin. “It was my first duty station. I wanted something to remember it by.”

“Aw, sentimental, that,” Louis cooed, bumping his nose along the ridge of Harry’s collarbone. Harry shivered. “Sweet.”

Harry grumbled something unintelligible into Louis’ hair and pulled him closer, scraping his teeth on Louis’ shoulder until he whined.

“Most of them are stupid,” Harry admitted. He lay back, settling in with Louis comfortably in his arms. “Little things, gotten spur of the moment. Funny stuff. Arranged carefully so they can’t be seen while I’m in uniform. You know,” he shrugged. Louis hummed in reply and nodded, snuggling even tighter against Harry’s chest.

“I do, that,” he said softly. His breath tickled, as did the slow sweep of his eyelashes. Louis fell asleep to the rise and fall of Harry’s breaths and the steady rhythm of his heart underneath his cheek.

***

Louis twisted the hem of his t-shirt as he waited for the electric kettle to boil. He knew he had a terrible case of wanderlust. In fact, most people figured it out shortly after meeting him. Since he’d enlisted and met Liam, he usually had a willing participant to go along with his schemes. But now…

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the chiming of the doorbell.

Harry leaned against the railing, simply glancing up at Louis before he walked past and into his little house. Louis shut the door and followed.

The click of the electric kettle turning itself off was audible even from the front entry and Harry followed the sound into the kitchen. Louis pulled a second mug from the cupboard and placed it onto the counter next to the one already waiting there.

“Yorkshire?” he asked, rattling the box of tea until Harry nodded.

“Was there a recruiter at your morning meeting today?” It was the first thing out of his mouth, and exactly what Louis had been winding himself up about.

“Yeah,” Louis said, handing Harry his cup. He murmured his thanks and promptly burnt himself, hissing as he placed the cup back on the counter.

“What did you think?” Harry pressed. Louis leaned back against the counter and studied the steaming surface of his tea.

“I was interested,” he finally replied with a shrug.

“Yeah?” Harry's eyes lit up and he took a step closer. “Me too.”

“But what about Niall?”

“He's up for it,” Harry said, “if his knee doesn't disqualify him.”

“Would you? Without him?” Louis asked.

“I don't know,” he admitted, “but I feel like I have to try.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“But… Liam?” Harry guessed. Louis’ head dipped slightly and Harry took two more steps, closing the distance between them to bump his shoulder against Louis’. “Liam doesn't want to go.”

Louis shook his head and downed the rest of his tea in one gulp.

“I’ve never done this without Liam. Don't know if I could,” he said mournfully. Harry crooned sympathetically, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“It’s an amazing opportunity.”

“The International Space Station,” Louis said wistfully. “Maybe Mars.”

Harry squeaked and squeezed Louis tighter, jostling him as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Can you imagine?” Harry said excitedly.

“I can. I really can.”

***

England never had a space program. They were a practical people, with their concerns closer to the ground. Europe wasn't much better. Their astronauts tended to be place fillers; bench warmers for the Americans or the Russians. The EU didn't send up rockets of its own.

Louis couldn't help but be intrigued. Liam, however, was not. And they argued.

“I don't understand!” Liam complained. “I'm a pilot; _you're_ a pilot. The space station doesn't have much of a need for that.”

“There's a need—“ Louis argued abortively.

“And as for a Mars expedition,” Liam huffed, “what are the odds we’d get tapped to go? There must be hundreds of able lads clamoring after it!”

“But that's the point, Liam!” Louis threw his hands in the air. “The best of the best! That's you and me, don't you see?”

Liam sighed and slumped down on his sofa, scrubbing a hand through the longer hair at the crown of his skull.

“I know,” Liam said, his eyes slipping shut resignedly. Louis took it as his cue to leap atop him, startling Liam into an undignified yelp.

“ _Come on, Liam!_ ” Louis yelled, grabbing fistfulls of Liam’s shirt as he knelt across his lap, and shaking him roughly as Liam fought to catch his wrists. “We're off to discover!”

“Alright, alright!” 

“We’re gonna do it?” Louis asked excitedly. “We're gonna try?”

“Yes, you lout, get off me!” Liam laughed, shoving Louis onto the floor. “I don't know why I keep letting you talk me into things.”

“You love me, Leemo,” Louis grinned up at him and Liam rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, go love up on Harry,” he teased, shooing Louis away as he climbed to his knees and looked set to hop on him again.

“What?” Louis sat very still.

“Am I not supposed to know?” Liam asked innocently; believable until his eyes crinkled at the corners and he broke into a grin. “Is it a _secret?_ ” he sing-songed.

Louis blushed and bit his lip. Liam was delighted.

“Well, no,” he began hesitantly, “it’s not a secret, exactly.”

“What is it then, exactly?”

Louis curled into himself and wriggled and squirmed, biting his bottom lip and twisting his fingers.

“I like him,” he said softly.

“Of course you do,” Liam said, leaning forward to squeeze Louis’ shoulder as he stood. “Now get out. I have to rework my resume for some reason.”

***

Astronaut selection used to be all about physical capability. They needed strong, fearless young men (generally, and really, who didn’t?) who could essentially hack and slash their way through a mission. Now though, candidates needed to show aptitude in engineering, sciences, life sciences, and mathematics as well.

European astronaut training had three phases: Basic training, Advanced training, and Increment Specific Training. For all ESA selected astronauts, Basic Training began at the EAC headquarters. This section of the training cycle had four separate training blocks that lasted 16 months, giving everyone the general idea what it would be like to be an astronaut and the kinds of tasks for which they would be responsible.

Louis was beside himself when their plane landed in Cologne. He hadn’t been to Germany in ages, at least not for any longer than it took him to wee and run to a shop for a bottle of wine for his mum. Beside him, Liam was asleep, but Harry and Niall could be heard whispering to one another across the aisle. 

Niall’s status with the European Space Agency was dodgy; they were skeptical that he’d be able to keep up with the training, even though the RAF had cleared him to fly. And apparently, Barbara had read him the riot act before he left. She insisted that if he was chosen to train with NASA, or to fly with _anyone_ , they were to be married first. She was going with him—not to _space_ , clearly—hell or high water. If he was leaving the planet, she was going to stand guard.

Liam was rather alarmed by those prospects, even to go as far as wondering whether or not Barbara knew a Mars mission was at least a five year commitment. Harry suggested that she did. Louis decided that it was in their best interest to not be the ones to tell her, if she didn’t.

Rain splattering against the window startled Louis into looking outside. It was dreary, but that was comforting, in a way. There were thirty of them coming to the European Astronaut Center as recruits. They would be lucky if two or three of them made it through.

***

The European Space Agency was involved with NASA’s Orion program, which meant that there was a possibility of having seats aboard the spacecraft. The Orion Multi-Purpose Crew Vehicle was intended to carry a crew of up to four astronauts to destinations at or beyond low Earth orbit. It was intended to facilitate human exploration of asteroids and of Mars, as well as to provide a means of delivering or retrieving crew or supplies from the ISS if needed.

The first mission to carry astronauts was not expected until 2023 at the earliest, although rumor had it that NASA was working towards 2021. Given that kind of timeline, none of them considered their chances good at all. It took 16 months to complete basic astronaut training, then a year for advanced training, and another year and a half for Increment Specific training, which was mission-specific. Most astronauts completed their training in five years. They weren’t going anywhere for a while.

There was talk of an intermediate objective of the establishment of a moon base first. The potential of a moon base as a possibility excited them beyond belief. No country had been to the moon since Apollo 17 in 1972, although NASA had been close, sending an unmanned Orion mission on a trip _around_ the moon in 2018. Louis remembered watching the footage with Liam and a bunch of lads at the officers’ club in Leuchars. It felt like he had been transported back in time, to the sixties for the first moon launches. The video was of much better quality, digital, and color, for all that everything was shades of gray anyway, but it had sent thrills down his spine just the same.

***

The introductory block of Basic Training was really just an endless orientation. They received overviews of the major spacefaring nations and their space agencies; mostly the US, Russia, and China. They learned about all the manned and unmanned space programs, including all those that were still running, but also all the ones in the past. It gave Louis a headache. He was terrible at history.

They studied space law and the intergovernmental agreements governing the worldwide cooperation in space. Harry excelled. He loved learning about policy, and had a natural ease with languages that frankly infuriated Louis. Louis dreaded having to learn Russian in one of the later blocks, really only interested in learning how to curse creatively and enthusiastically in a way that wasn’t likely to get him slapped by his mother. Having to be able to carry on a conversation with a cosmonaut in their native language didn’t appeal to him at all.

When they started, Louis had been afraid that he would grow bored. He hadn’t ever been an exceptional student. He got the job done. But astronaut training, at least in the beginning, was very much like uni. 

“Think of it more like graduate school, Lou,” Harry suggested. Louis recoiled in horror and told him to fuck off. That strategy did not work at all, but luckily they were kept so busy that the first four months rolled by in a blink.

***

There was a short leave between training blocks, and they all tramped back to England to see their families, promising to meet back up at Lossie before they had to return.

Felicite met Louis at the train station in Doncaster.

“Fizzy darling,” he crooned into her hair as he wrapped her up in a hug. “How is my most beautiful and sensible sister?”

“ _Sensible?_ ” she asked with a frown. “That’s a new one.” They both shrugged. Lottie was arguably equally beautiful, as all the Tomlinson girls were, but she was kind of _woooooo makeup!_ London, and parties, and pretending she was a socialite. Felicite was definitively the more serious sister, studying for her business degree. Sensible. And as for the twins, well. They were the twins. Always had been a little out there. Louis was a little afraid for them to finish school and be out in the world on their own.

“How’s mum, then?” Louis let Felicite steer him toward the car park.

“Mental, as per usual,” she said with a laugh. Louis gave her a squeeze. God, how he’d missed her. Missed them all.

They were quiet most of the way to Jay’s house. Louis half wondered why Felicite wasn’t more chatty, but then he felt like he needed to save up his energy for the mad house that was their mum’s.

“Mum tell you I have a boyfriend?” Felicite asked, keeping her eyes fixed to the road.

“She did not! Have you?” Louis pretended to be scandalized. “Do I need to tell you—“

“Indeed not,” Felicite said sharply. “Grew up with you in the house didn’t I? If you couldn’t put your dick in it, you weren’t interested. Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick. _I know._ ”

“Not true!” Louis cried, “make me out to be a proper villain. I’m wounded, truly!”

“Oh, shut up, you are not, you great slag,” Felicite laughed.

“I’ve a boyfriend too,” he mumbled, looking out the window for good measure.

“You’ve what? _What?_ Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?” Felicite shouted, pressing on the brakes a bit hard and making them lurch.

“I don’t know. Mum didn’t say?”

“ _No, Mum didn’t say!_ ” Felicite fairly hissed, slapping at Louis while they waited for the traffic signal. “Bit of juicy news. Been single for a while, mate.”

“Yes, well,” Louis said, fending her off as best he could without killing them both, “it’s not a big deal.”

Felicite scoffed.

“Not a big deal, you shit. Of course it is,” she argued. “You’re _in love,_ ” she added dreamily.

“I don’t know about that,” Louis countered, picking at his fingernails to avoid his sister’s knowing looks.

“Don’t pull that crap on me, Louis Tomlinson. I’ve known you my whole life,” Felicite pointed out, “you practically raised me. Don’t I know that when you go you go hard.” Louis chose not to respond. It was a tactic that tended to throw his sisters, who liked to argue, and could til they were blue in the face. “Oh,” she said softly. “Is he an astronaut too?”

“Yeah,” Louis admitted. “We don’t get a lot of time to ourselves. It’s not—it’s not really the best time to try to make a relationship work.”

Felicite clasped Louis’ hand beside the gear shift.

“Oh, Lou. If you love him, and he loves you, you can make it work.”

“Sage advice, little sister,” Louis teased.

“Shut up, you prat. I’m very mature.”

***

Louis spent a week fending off the advances of his sisters’ friends and tussling with a particularly exhuberant baby brother. He felt like a jungle gym; bruised everywhere. He needed to return to Cologne just to get a break from it all.

The lads all met back up at Lossie three days before they were meant to return to training. Niall and Barbara had set a date for the wedding. Liam was anxious to get moving after a sleepy week with his parents, and Harry was practically purring as a result of some intense motherly spoiling.

He didn’t remember much of those three days. He knows he checked on his house, made some quick office visits, and then they hit the pub. They were drunk until they got back on the plane in London, and even then weren’t entirely sober when they touched ground again in Germany.

***

Niall’s knee sent him home again before the end of the first month of the second block. They were training on fundamentals, a wide variety of technical and scientific disciplines, which included an introduction to research under weightlessness. Cologne had a beautiful facility where they had to first learn to scuba dive, then use the similarities between water and space to simulate activities.

The deck could be very slippery.

Niall lay on the cold tiles with his jaw clenched as the medics stabilized his leg and secured cold packs with wrap bandages. Harry hovered anxiously at his shoulder as Liam and Louis helped clear up the gear scattered across the floor.

Later, in their quarters, Louis listened as Harry told him how Niall had been referred to a specialist in the States. Normally, the RAF would have their own medical staff take care of it, but they seemed rather happy to divest of him. Their treatment hadn’t really worked very well the first time anyway, apparently.

They were almost jealous of Niall’s time in the States. He was going to Colorado. The area was beautiful, and each of them had been to the American air base there at some point over the years. The American Air Force Academy was there too, and as flight officers, the lads had a certain status over the cadets that had its appeal. It was good fun.

What was not fun was continuing on as a threesome, which, said aloud in Liam’s presence made him splutter and blush furiously as Harry leered and Louis cackled and prodded him. The second block was more intense and they were feeling it, in no small part due to missing Niall. Harry shuffled around like a sad cow most nights, toting an open textbook. Liam took to holing up in his room, reading and re-reading their assignments until his head hurt, and then going to the gym for hours on end. Louis bounced between Harry and Liam and studying on his own, but it didn’t seem to do any good. He felt like he was falling behind.

Harry absorbed the technical and scientific aspects like a sponge, and was delighted when they were introduced to the robotics sector. They had to learn how to perform extra-vehicular activities, including robotics operations using remote manipulators, experiment operations, and maintenance tasks. It wasn’t Louis’ favorite activity, but he enjoyed watching the glee on Harry’s and Liam’s faces as they worked.

Louis was actually kind of bored. He was a _pilot_. He excelled at launch and landing. That’s what he _did_. The third training block was far more appealing. They were finally getting into specifics of space systems and operations.

The EAC had a Soyuz capsule simulator. It prepared the crew for events relating to operation of spacecraft and the space environment, and Louis was so excited the first time he had a hand at it, he thought he’d have to get a hand on himself later. Being an astronaut was _sexy_. Louis was sexy, and somebody needed to touch his dick, even if it was just him. He thought Harry might oblige. They’d been rather hands off since beginning the new program, but if he was lucky, the simulator might get Harry all worked up too. Stranger things had happened.

From the look on Harry’s face as he tumbled out of the capsule, Louis’ chances were good. Very good.

***

Louis and Liam were really feeling the pinch, expecting to be sacked at any moment and carted back to Scotland in disgrace. They were all cranky. Liam was struggling with astronomy, Louis _still_ gave no fucks about Russian, and he couldn’t figure out what Harry’s problem was.

They were enjoying a rare moment of down time when Niall called. They all brightened as Harry jerked at the vibrations in his pocket and the obnoxious quacking ring tone he’d selected for his best mate.

“Niall!” Harry shouted happily, but his face immediately clouded. Liam blocked Louis’ lunge for him, holding him back as he watched carefully. Harry stood, gesturing for them to stay, and disappeared into their quarters.

Liam and Louis barely had time to look at each other and wonder before Harry re-emerged, clutching his phone in both hands.

“What’s the matter?” Liam asked, digging harshly into Louis’ wrist to keep him still.

“I have to go back,” Harry said distractedly. “There’s been… an accident.”

Louis and Liam leaped to their feet.

“You can’t just leave; you’re the best of us,” Louis said inanely. Liam punched his arm. “What happened? Is it your mother? Or, no, not Gemma!”

Harry looked ready to cry, and Liam put a steadying hand on Louis this time.

“Harry, tell us. Please,” Liam said softly. Harry took a quavering breath.

“It’s Zayn. He’s dead.”

***

The XV engineering shop had been sending their staff back to the Air Force College to learn a new system they were adopting. It was RAF-wide, so they all had to learn it eventually, and had been in fits and spurts of two or three at a time. They couldn’t all go at once and leave the place deserted.

Zayn and Jon and two others Louis couldn’t recall were flying back to Lossie with a passel of trainer tornadoes. The landing gear of the aircraft Zayn was in failed to descend properly, and at touchdown, the plane dipped and cartwheeled. Zayn and the pilot, a lad named Nick, who they all got on with splendidly, were crushed. They were dead when the emergency vehicles met them on the runway.

Louis and Liam held on to Harry when he finally broke and sobbed. 

***

In the end, it was all three of them who returned to Scotland for the funeral. They got leave for barely more than a weekend, but it let them reconnect. It gave them time to stop by the hangar and the engineering shop, where Zayn’s colleagues were quiet and subdued, stunned at the loss of one of their own. It gave them time to see Perrie, and help her as best they could for the massive military funeral and the influx of Zayn’s family.

Louis was proud of them all for standing through the passing of the procession, the standard, and the horrible flag-draped coffin. It broke his heart to hear Perrie weeping during the Last Post, flanked by her mum and presumably Zayn’s. It was silent though, as the crowd queued along and the pile of poppies atop the coffin grew as they slipped through their fingers.

The lads fucked off to the pub for the remainder of the proceedings. The Maliks were Muslim and wanted the more intimate and ceremonial parts limited to the family. Apparently there had been a whole do before the military bit anyhow. Louis was fine with that.

***

Louis collected a rather hung-over Liam the next day and went back to Perrie’s. Liam had something from his mum, still frozen in its container, to take to her. He looked away, sheepish, at Louis’ glare.

“I figured she’d need something down the line,” Liam explained half-heartedly. “She’ll be drowning in curry and puddings, yet in a few days, or a week, what will be left? Now she’ll have this, ready to just warm up. What have you, then?”

“Diapers,” Louis said with a jerk of his chin toward the back, where sat two lumpy Tesco bags.

“Oh, good ‘un, mate,” Liam replied. “Never would have thought of that.”

Louis simply nodded and eased the car around the corner.

***

People drifted in and out of Perrie and Zayn’s house all day. Louis saw the neighbors, whom he’d met before, and nodded in greeting from his post at the kitchen counter. He’d been drafted into making tea.

He could do that.

Harry appeared some time later, bearing a tray of sandwiches.

“Liam brought a frozen brick,” Louis declared, rolling his eyes as he took the tray and placed the sandwiches somewhere he wouldn’t knock them off with his elbow. “At least we can identify these.”

Harry chuckled and rested his forehead on Louis’ shoulder for the barest moment. Louis’ chest constricted.

“Come back to mine, after?” he asked softly. Harry nodded, taking a step back to turn and greet Niall and Barbara as they arrived.

Perrie drifted in, so Louis pressed a cup of tea into her hands as she sat at the kitchen table. She looked so lost and sad he couldn’t step away, and ended up sitting with her for a while.

Eventually, Perrie started talking. She told Louis how she and Zayn met when they were teenagers. How they dated for a while but broke up because Zayn was a slag. They got together again, years later. Perrie hoped he had gotten it out of his system. She loved him, and he loved their baby more than anything.

“That’s what I’ll tell her, you know,” Perrie said mournfully. “Her daddy loved her more than anyone else in the world.”

Louis wished she could say the same. He strongly suspected they’d been having problems, even if it wasn’t out in the open. He didn’t know the extent of it, just that it was a rocky period. He himself had walked in on Zayn and some bird in a questionable situation in the loo at the officer’s club. He figured they’d be able to work it out, it was just the stress of a new baby, the changes in their lives. And then, it suddenly wasn’t an issue any more.

***

They didn’t leave Perrie’s together, but it was a close enough thing, so that Louis expected Harry’s soft knock a bit sooner than it came. When he opened the door, Harry waggled the reason for his delay: a bottle of vodka.

“Thought we could…” he suggested. Louis nodded emphatically and let him in.

“What do you want with it?” Louis asked, going for the refrigerator.

“Do you have any tonic?”

“Possibly,” Louis replied, “let me look.” He shifted condiments and bottles of whatnot until he was practically shoulder deep in the cooler, pulling back with a triumphant “ha!” Upon closer inspection, he frowned. “Well, it’s soda water.”

“Close enough,” Harry shrugged.

“I have a lime?” Louis offered, displaying a piece of fruit that had seen brighter days. Harry shook his head.

“Nah, let’s just…”

Louis pulled two glasses from the cupboard, snagged the soda, and led Harry to the lounge. The glasses clinked as he set them down, and Louis wasted no time in filling them up. Harry’s smile of thanks was tired.

“How are you doing? You ok?” Louis wondered, pressing his thigh against Harry’s.

“Yeah.” Harry’s voice grated in his throat, and he sighed, toying with the drink in his hands before taking a sip and grimacing. “Is there actually any soda in here?”

“A fair amount,” Louis said. Harry’s eyebrow rose. “They were introduced.”

Harry shrugged and took another drink.

“It’s been a madhouse,” he said finally. “After the crash. The inquests, the inspections. It’s all coming down to mechanical failure. No one did anything wrong. The records are all there, and everything was done right down to the letter. That aircraft was in top form; it shouldn’t have failed.” Harry took a shuddery breath. “But it did.”

“Been a bit of a zoo on our side too, to be honest. HQ cracking down. Glad I’m at EAC.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed morosely. His glass dangled precariously between his fingers. It was empty.

Louis added another splash of alcohol to Harry’s glass, then his own, the soda forgotten. Harry took a gulp and firmly set his glass on the table, then waited until Louis did the same.

“Take me to bed?” he asked softly.

“Of course.”

Louis stood and pulled Harry to his feet, then led him silently to the bedroom. They hadn’t done this enough for them to have a routine. Hadn’t even been together at Louis’ house, always Harry’s. Louis was grateful that most of his things were tucked away and his house didn’t have that sense of descending into squalor that it often had when he was at home for longer than a day or two. At least the sheets were clean.

Harry stopped at the door to Louis’ room. He looked lost. Sad. And tired. Louis’ chest tightened, and he stepped back to slip his arms around Harry’s waist.

“Alright?” he asked, nuzzling gently along Harry’s jaw. His answering nod so slight Louis would have missed it if they hadn’t been touching. “What do you want, love?”

“Come on,” he said, nudging Louis along, further into the room.

It took a moment and more to rid themselves of their clothes. A dozen buttons and clasps to undo before Harry led them to the bed. Louis lay back and Harry followed, hovering over him as he ran his hands over Louis’ body, finally urging him to raise his arms over his head.

“Hold them there?” Harry asked. “Can you? Or hold on—“ Harry glanced around. The solid headboard was not easily gripped. “Just—can you?”

“Yes,” Louis said, he was starting to tremble—a sense of urgency and anticipation running through him. “Yes, of course, _please_.”

Harry smiled and dropped down to kiss him. Louis relaxed into it, happy that Harry could at least find some comfort in him. He needed it. Louis needed it.

Harry slid down between Louis’ thighs until he could ease his way onto his forearms and take Louis into his mouth. Louis gasped and shuddered as Harry’s lush mouth closed around him. Harry had sucked him off before—many times, in fact—but he couldn’t get over it. Harry was beautiful, and he let Louis touch him. He looked almost serene, with his long dusky lashes and smooth forehead. Only his wicked red lips, shiny with spit, ruined the image of innocence.

Louis didn’t want innocent. He had to dig his thumb into his wrist to keep from reaching for Harry. His groans and whimpers rose in pitch until Harry pulled off and looked up at him. Louis was tight as a bowstring, and he quivered as Harry stroked along his thighs.

“Alright?” he asked, his breath fanning over Louis’ wet cock and making him shiver.

“ _Harry._ ”

He grinned and popped up onto his knees effortlessly. Louis watched for a moment as Harry glanced around before he gestured to the correct drawer. Harry leaned and balanced until he could easily reach the bottle of lube tucked neatly in the corner. Louis was organized about the things that mattered. His priorities were clear.

Louis wriggled impatiently as Harry slicked up his fingers. Harry had lovely long fingers, and Louis wanted them. He _needed_ them if he had any chance of taking the massive package Harry was toting.

Harry slipped a finger inside easily. Louis knew he had to relax if he wanted it to work. The second made him squeeze his own wrist, hard, to keep from reaching for Harry. It made Harry look up, break away from his laser focus on Louis’ arse.

“Still good?” 

“Yeah,” Louis nodded. Harry smiled and Louis relaxed his grip somewhat.

“So good for me, Lou,” Harry said, leaning down to nudge his nose against Louis’ before he kissed him. A good diversion for a third finger. Louis hissed uncomfortably and bit his lip. Harry murmured wordlessly into his ear, soothing him as Louis slowly loosened up.

Harry pulled out his fingers and wiped them on the sheet at his knee. As he straightened, going for the drawer again, Louis stilled him with a hand on his arm.

“No,” Louis said, soft but firm. Harry looked confused.

“But—“

“I haven’t been with anyone else in over a year,” he admitted. “Just you.”

Harry opened his mouth then closed it again.

“Just me?” Harry asked softly. Louis wanted to clutch this boy to his chest.

“Just you,” Louis said, reaching down for Harry’s hand and pulling it up to kiss, pressing it against his cheek. “Love you, Hazza.” Harry looked momentarily stunned, then bent to kiss Louis again. Louis smiled against his mouth. “Now I want you to fuck me hard, and come all over me.”

Harry burst into laughter, pressing his forehead to Louis’. Then he grasped Louis’ hands and tugged them over his head again.

“Such a romantic you are. Next time,” he said, eyes shining darkly, “I’m tying you up.”

“Promise?” asked cheekily, squirming a little.

“Pinky swear.”

Their hands were entwined when Harry slid inside. Louis shook with the effort to relax. Harry pressed tiny, soft kisses all over his face, a good distraction for him to slide in even deeper.

“Lor’,” Louis gasped, “you’re a big lad.”

“You like it?” Harry asked, pausing, “or ‘s it too much?”

“Like it,” he said, stretching and tentatively rolling his hips. “Definitely like it.”

“Good,” Harry replied, pulling back and thrusting in, building up a rhythm to fuck Louis for real.

They didn’t say much after that. Harry followed Louis’ request and took him hard, their skin making a sharp sound as they came together over and over again. Louis fought to keep his hands where Harry told him, but they ended up clenched in his hair as he writhed and tried not to come.

“Let me,” Louis gasped, “let me—“

“What you want, love?” Harry asked breathlessly.

“Let me touch you, please!” he cried, yelping as Harry hit his prostate.

“Go on.”

Louis’ hands flew to Harry’s shoulders, his straining arms, his pecs. He flicked both nipples, one after the other, making Harry jerk and thrust into Louis particularly hard. Louis trailed his hands up to Harry’s face, stroking his pink cheeks gently before raking his nails over his scalp. Harry shuddered and groaned, grinding his cock deep inside.

Louis’ hand fell to his belly.

“God, Hazza,” he moaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “I can feel you fuck me from the outside. Feel it, feel it, right here.”

Louis grasped Harry’s hand and pressed it low on his belly. Harry made a high strangled sound and squeezed his eyes shut, fucking into Louis faster.

“Gonna come, Lou,” he warned. “In or out?”

“In!” Louis practically shouted. “Wanna feel you.”

Harry’s hips slammed into his thighs as he came. Louis could feel it, Harry’s cock twitching and throbbing inside him and it threw him over the edge, spurting over his own belly as Harry dug his fingers into his hips.

They both gasped as Harry pulled out. It was messy and wet and one last bit of stimulation on overstimulated bodies. Louis sagged upon the mattress as Harry slumped over and draped himself half on top of him.

“I’m going to feel that for days,” Louis moaned, satisfied.

“I’m going to wank to that for _months_ ,” Harry teased. Louis half-heartedly punched his arm and he chuckled into his shoulder.

“Look at me.”

Louis offered his wrists for inspection. There were clear crescent indentations from his nails, and bruises already blooming, there, and on his hips. Harry clucked sympathetically, gently stroking each little hurt in turn.

“Hurt?” he asked, eyes wide.

“No,” Louis assured him. “I like it.”

“Good,” Harry said with a sigh, “me too.”

“But,” Louis added, wrinkling his nose, “I did not think this all the way through.”

“What?”

“Feeling come dribbling out of my arse is… alarming.” Harry looked revolted. “It’s _your_ come,” Louis pointed out. Harry shook himself and rolled out of bed, gingerly making his way to the loo, coming back with a wet flannel.

“That’s gross, Lou. Way to kill the afterglow.”

***

They were meant to fly back to Cologne the next afternoon, to rejoin the EAC on Monday. Harry had stayed the night, and by morning enough texts had passed that Liam and Niall were on Louis’ doorstep for breakfast.

Liam nearly knocked Louis off his feet going for a refill of tea. 

“What’s this?” Liam hissed, tugging Louis by his arm into a corner. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Liam,” Louis said, taking his arm back and yanking down his sleeve to cover the marks from the night before.

“Was he rough with you?” Liam went on, pointing incredulously in the general direction of Louis’ table, where Niall and Harry were sat, munching on scones. Liam looked ready to jump and beat the piss out of him.

“Yes,” Louis said, low and firm, “because I asked him to.”

Liam came up short, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

“You asked—“

“Yes, Liam. I asked for it. I liked it, and he liked it,” Louis explained. “Can we move on?”

“If he hurts you for real, I’ll kill him,” Liam offered seriously.

“Of course you will, Leemo,” Louis said, patting his arm. “Now get out of the way; you’re between me and the tea.”

Liam stepped back, bewildered, and Louis refreshed his cup. He smiled when Harry passed him the last chocolate croissant. Harry surely had Niall trained on where to find the best baked goods.

“So, lads,” Liam began hesitantly, picking at the remains of his pastry. “I’m not going back to Cologne.”

“ _What?_ ” Louis shot up out of his chair. “What do you mean, not going back?”

“I’m not going back to the astronaut corps,” Liam explained. “I’m going to stay here. Reckon it wouldn’t have been long before they kicked me out anyway.”

“But _why?_ ” Louis practically wailed, waving his hands helplessly. “I don’t understand.”

“It was just a matter of time, Lou,” Liam said sadly. “I never would have made it through the fourth block. Have you heard my Russian? It’s worse than yours.”

“Hey!”

“True,” Niall pointed out helpfully. Louis shot him a glare.

“I’m just cutting my losses,” Liam said with a shrug. “I’m happy here, flying my typhoon. I want to fly. There is surprisingly little flying in the astronaut corps.”

“I’m not going back either,” Harry added softly.

Louis rounded on him.

“ _What?_ Harry, you _can’t!_ ” he shouted. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I only decided for sure just now. I wasn’t sure before.”

Louis slumped back down into his seat.

“So you’re just—“ he drew a shaky breath, “you’re just going to quit?”

“My heart’s not in it, Lou,” Harry said, gently laying his hand atop Louis’. “Too much has happened.”

No one said anything for a while, the only sound that of Niall crunching the last croissant. Finally, Louis pushed back his chair and stood.

“I have to get ready,” he said to the room at large. “Flight is scheduled for 1800.”

***

Harry and Niall and Liam tidied up the remains of breakfast in relative silence. Louis had disappeared into the bowels of the house, and all of them were hesitant to follow. Louis’ tendency to lash out when he was upset was well known. It was best to let him stew for a bit.

Niall’s joy at reunion, however, was poorly concealed. He bounced as he walked, and he touched Harry whenever he was within reaching distance, a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

“Are you in love with me, Nialler? Is that it? Do I need to say something to Barbara?” Harry chuckled, Niall tucked into his side as he tried to wipe the dishes. Niall tucked his face into Harry’s neck and _giggled._

“I’m just that glad to see you, lad,” he said with a quick squeeze around Harry’s waist and a smacking kiss to his cheek. “Bosses are trying to set me up with a new pilot, but I’m not having it. Said I’m waiting for you to come back and I’ll not be flying with anyone else.”

“Bet they loved that,” Liam put in, reaching to put cups away on a shelf higher than Louis usually used, just to annoy him.

“Oh, to be sure!” Niall laughed. “Put me on student flight for the time being. But now you’re here, and you’re here to stay, and I’ll not have to fly with that wanker Grimshaw.”

“ _Grimshaw?_ ” Harry paled.

“No, no, not the dearly departed, of course not,” Niall said quickly. “Aiden. You remember? He was grounded a while for conduct unbecoming.”

“Oh. Right,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Scandalous, that one. Dodged a bullet there, Nialler.”

“Before our time, I gather?” Liam asked.

“Not really,” Niall said thoughtfully. “Early last year, wouldn’t you say, Harry?”

“Maybe into summer.”

“Nothing we would have heard about though, on the other side?” Liam wondered, leaning back against the counter to listen more carefully.

“No,” Harry agreed, “kept it quiet. We keep our secrets in the XV.” He winked and tapped the side of his nose. Niall and Liam laughed; he was ridiculous.

“What happened then?” Liam pressed.

“Caught shagging a Flying Officer in the hangar,” Niall said bluntly.

“ _No!_ ” Liam slapped a hand over his mouth and curled in on himself, howling with laughter.

“Yes, well,” Harry went on, “she was lower rank, so, _scandalous and indecent behavior, loss of respect as an officer and a gentleman_ , and so on and so forth.”

“Plus there was the matter of her being somewhat of a sensitive figure,” Niall added.

“Sensitive? How?” Liam asked.

“Peerage,” Harry said simply. Liam gawked.

“Oh shit! No wonder we didn’t hear anything of it.”

Harry just tilted his head in acknowledgement and went on drying the breakfast plates.

***

Louis was still in his bedroom when Liam and Niall poked their heads in.

“Oi, Tommo,” Liam announced, rapping on the door jamb. Louis backed out of where he’d been engulfed by the contents of his closet. “Niall and I are headed out.”

“Together?” Louis asked inanely.

“ _No_ ,” Liam rolled his eyes fondly. “Niall has to—“

“Go meet Barbara and her mother for some wedding planning… something or other,” Niall explained, waving his hand in the air as if that helped to clarify anything. “Gotta scramble. Mother P is a dragon. Give us a hug, mate.”

Niall beckoned Louis into the circle of his arms and gave him a solid squeeze. Louis clapped him on the back and pushed him away, hands lingering on his arms.

“Get on with you,” Louis said. “You’ve ladies to please.”

“Always do,” Niall smirked. He turned out into the hallway with a jaunty salute and sauntered off as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Louis liked that about him.

“I’m parked behind him,” Liam said, suddenly in a bigger rush. “He’ll run me over. Bring it in, Lou.”

And with a quick hug, Liam too was out the door.

That left Harry and Louis alone again.

Louis sat on the edge of the bed, looking dejected. Harry climbed on and gingerly wrapped himself around him, tucking his nose in the nape of Louis’ neck, breathing him in. Louis sighed and let himself sink into the warmth of Harry’s embrace.

“I don’t want to go back alone,” Louis said softly. Harry hummed and pulled him in tighter.

“You’ll be great,” Harry told him, nosing at Louis’ ear and making him twitch.

“I know.”

Harry jabbed him in the side and Louis crumpled, leaning heavily in his grasp as they tussled and giggled like idiots until they were gasping for breath. Harry rolled them until he lay atop Louis, chest to chest, looking down on him fondly.

“I love you, you know,” Harry said, gently tracing the line of Louis’ jaw.

“I know.”

Harry shouted at the ceiling as Louis laughed beneath him, struggling and failing to remove himself. 

“I should not have set you up for that!” Harry cried, lunging at Louis to pinch and twist as much soft flesh as he could reach. “You are _not_ the best smuggler in the galaxy!” Louis yelped and giggled and nearly tossed Harry off the bed. “You did _not_ pilot the ship that made the Kessel run in less than thirteen parsecs!”

“Twelve!” Louis shouted gleefully. “It was twelve parsecs!”

“And I am _not_ Princess Leia,” Harry added, falling down beside Louis and throwing both an arm and a leg over him to pull him in snug.

“You could be,” Louis said thoughtfully, tugging at the half-inch long strands by Harry’s ears. “If you let this grow, we could twist—“

Harry grabbed his wrist and tucked it in to his chest.

“No,” he said softly, shaking his head. “The Queen would not allow that, I’m afraid.”

Louis smiled and lay his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said.

“I know.”

***

It was pissing down rain when Louis’ flight left Scotland, and it was pissing down still when it reached Cologne. Fitting. Louis’ mood was as black as the skies. Harry had dropped him off at the hangar, but had only lingered for a moment. His big sad eyes belying his cheerful sendoff. Already they couldn’t lie to one another.

The barracks were quiet when he got there, and much condensed. Liam and Harry weren’t the only losses for the week, so Louis found himself in the midst of a reorganization, with a brand new roommate.  
Louis was directed to a new room and came face to face with a wall of muscle.

“Hi!” Louis squawked, taking a hasty step back to look up at the person who was apparently his new roommate. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” he said with a shy smile. “Niall Breslin.”

“Oh!” Louis dumped his bag on the empty side of the room and reached out for a hearty handshake. “Louis Tomlinson. It’s a pleasure.”

They grinned sheepishly at one another for a while, Breslin rubbing his hands together somewhat anxiously. Louis cast about for something to say to break the tension.

“You’re Irish, then?” Louis tried, cringing internally. _Clearly_ he was Irish. “My mate, Niall, he’s Irish too. Was here for a bit, til he—“

“Oh, ay, Horan?” Breslin brightened up a bit. “Good lad.”

“You know him?”

“From before either of us joined up,” Breslin said. “We’re both from Mullingar, aren’t we.”

“No!” Louis shouted. “What are the odds?”

Breslin just shrugged.

“Call me Bressie,” he said, “everyone else does.”

“Bressie? That’s _you?_ ” Louis asked delightedly. “I didn’t even—Niall talks of you all the time!”

“All good, I hope?” Bressie wondered.

“Course not,” Louis replied with a wink. Bressie grinned.

They were friends.

***

“ _Harryyyyyyyy._ ”

He sighed.

“Don’t whine, Lou.”

“But I’m _lonely_. I _miss_ you,” he replied, slightly less whiny.

“Aren’t you getting on with Bressie?” Harry asked.

“Well, yes,” Louis admitted, “but he’s kind of a grandpa.”

Harry giggled and snorted and giggled some more.

“A grandpa?”

“He’s rather grumpy,” Louis said, sounding rather grumpy grandpa himself. “Takes everything very seriously.”

“Not everyone is like you, Lou,” Harry pointed out. “Many people take life seriously.”

“I take life seriously!” Louis argued, affronted.

“Of course you do, love.”

“Just not every little thing,” Louis grumbled.

“I’m sure it’s fine. Niall wouldn’t be mates with the bloke if he was a complete knob.”

“Didn’t say he was a knob!”

“Well, what about the other lads left in the program?” Harry subtly—for him—tried to shift the subject.

Louis just hissed through his teeth.

“They’re not you,” he said miserably. Harry made a sympathetic noise. “They’re not Liam. Or Nialler, although Bressie being Irish does kind of help, as long as I’m not paying attention to what he’s going on about.”

Harry laughed again.

“Not much risk of that, is there?” he teased.

“Fuck you very much,” Louis said, but without any heat.

“Oh, Lou. You still want to be there, don’t you?”

“Well. Yes,” Louis replied hesitantly.

“Don’t much sound like it lately,” Harry pointed out. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Louis muttered. He was pouting, and he could tell that Harry could tell he was pouting. It didn’t help.

“Haven’t much been acting like it. You’re the best pilot in England,” Harry said proudly. “Other than me. And possibly Liam.”

“Hey!” Louis shouted, startling Bressie as he entered their room. “Sorry, mate, sorry. Now Harry…”

“I need to get going soon,” Harry said softly.

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, “and it’s bad form to have phone sex while your roommate is in the room. And awake.” 

Louis winked at Bressie, who promptly threw a shoe at him. Luckily it missed, or Louis could have sustained a serious injury, what with the great size of Bressie’s feet.

***

Louis made it through to the end of the third block of astronaut training, but they did not ask him back for the fourth. In the end, Liam had been right. His Russian was poor, and he was too easily riled up. Astronauts had to be able to work with a small group of people for an extended period of isolation. Louis’ crew would have killed him and sent his body out the airlock.

Louis was a great pilot. He was not, however, great astronaut material.

He had been gone from Lossiemouth for the better part of a year, but there was still room for him in the squadron. Liam was beside himself the day Louis came in and dropped his things in front of a locker in the crew room. He found himself wrapped in a tight hug and not released for several minutes. It’s possible his feet left the floor.

“You’d think, Liam, that we hadn’t seen each other in far longer than eight weeks,” Louis said dryly.

“I know, I know,” Liam said sheepishly, putting him down and giving him a pat for good measure. “It’s just been weird without you here. Quiet.”

“Are you implying that I’m loud?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Liam said with a grin. “You are very loud, and you have been sorely missed.”

“Aw, thank you, Liam. I missed you too,” Louis replied, slinging his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “I need to go home. It’s not a long flight from Germany, but—“ He waved a hand around his head. It was a lot to process, coming back.

***

Louis’ mobile pinged on his bedside table.

_Are you home yet? ___

__It was Harry._ _

___yes_ was all he replied._ _

__He had almost put the phone back when it pinged again._ _

___Would you like me to come over? Would you like to come over here?_ _ _

___come over_ _ _

___You sure? Not too tired?_ _ _

___come over H_ _ _

___OK_ _ _

__Louis hauled himself out of bed and made his way into the kitchen, scratching absently at a spot where the elastic waist of his boxers rubbed funny. He hadn’t been asleep, just considering it; tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. It was still early, and going to sleep would likely throw off his internal clock. He had to be at morning meeting by seven the next day; it wouldn’t do to be awake at 3am and wondering what to do with himself._ _

__Harry’s knock came before the kettle boiled. Louis smiled to himself on his way to the door. Harry was always so eager to please._ _

__Louis opened the door for Harry and ushered him in. The latch had barely clicked before he was pressed up against the wall, standing on top of a pile of discarded shoes, with Harry breathing in his ear._ _

__“Hello to you too,” Louis chuckled, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck._ _

__“You’re back,” Harry sighed._ _

__“That I am. Did you miss me?” Louis teased._ _

__“I did,” Harry replied with a roll of his hips. “Very much.” He rolled them again. “Facetime and Skype are not an adequate solution.”_ _

__“Too true.”_ _

__“I can’t decide,” Harry mused, grinding Louis into the wall until he whimpered, “whether I want you to ride me, or if I want you to fuck me til I scream. Hmmm?” he hummed in Louis’ ear. “What do you think?”_ _

__“Can’t we do both?” Louis asked breathlessly. Harry’s throaty laugh vibrated through his bones._ _

__“I’m sure it can be arranged,” Harry replied, hoisting Louis up until his legs wrapped around his waist._ _

__“Put me down!” Louis squawked, slapping at Harry’s shoulder. “Put me down, it’s faster!”_ _

__Harry let Louis slip out of his grasp, and the second his feet touched the floor he was off down the hallway in a flurry of scrambling limbs. Harry let out a bark of laughter before he took off after him.  
Louis’ bedroom door banged against the wall, and he stopped to peer around it, scowling. There was a dent in the plaster._ _

__“Bloody hell.”_ _

__“We’ll fix it later,” Harry promised, coming in behind him, bending down to press a kiss on the crown of Louis’ bare shoulder. “Come on,” he said, nudging Louis further into the room, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”_ _

__“Have you?” Louis asked cheekily, turning and walking backwards toward the bed, easing his boxers down over his arse until they dropped to the floor. “Isn’t that rather dangerous, in our line of work?”_ _

__“Didn’t fly today,” Harry said, peeling off his t-shirt and stepping out of his jeans. Louis didn’t know how he did it. He could never get Harry’s stupid tight skinny jeans off without punching himself in the face._ _

__“Good luck, then. Far too much tragedy lately.” Something flickered across Harry’s face and Louis cringed. “Too soon?”_ _

__“A bit,” Harry said, “forget about it.”_ _

__He climbed on the bed and dove over Louis, rolling onto his back with a bounce and a satisfied chuckle. Louis swung a leg over and straddled his hips before sliding half off again to reach for the lube in the drawer._ _

__“Want me to?” he asked. Harry just nodded and watched with his hands clutching Louis’ thighs as he slipped two fingers inside. Far too soon, Louis reached for the bottle again, squeezing out a fair amount and slathering it on Harry’s cock._ _

__Harry hissed with the cold, and Louis smirked. He loved tormenting him. None of his friends let him get away with that kind of shit, though, so Louis always ended up getting just as good as he gave. He looked forward to it._ _

__Louis eased down slowly. He was still too tight, and he knew it; Harry knew it. Harry’s hands skated down his thighs and back again as he clearly tried hard to be still. But Louis was impatient and easily frustrated and he gave up, slamming himself all the way down on Harry’s cock and forcing a sharp cry from his lips._ _

__Harry sat up with a start._ _

__“ _Fuck_ , Lou! God, what—“_ _

__“Fucking hell, that hurt,” Louis groaned, his eyes squeezed shut so tight tears escaped at the corners. Harry thumbed them away, pressing tiny kisses to his cheeks and his nose and his chin._ _

__“What were you thinking?” Harry asked, his lovely large hands curling around Louis’ jaw._ _

__“Couldn’t wait.” His voice wavered as he took a deep breath, let it out, then took another as he shifted his hips experimentally. “So good, Hazza,” Louis said, a moan bubbling up as he continued to move, his wrists crossed behind Harry’s head to keep him there as he slowly rocked back and forth._ _

__“I’m going to come,” Harry blinked, looking surprised at his own statement._ _

__“No you’re not,” Louis declared, lifting up and off abruptly, shoving at Harry’s hip. “Roll over.”_ _

__Harry laughed as he went, leaning on his elbows and wriggling his hips so his wet cock smeared all over the duvet. Louis smacked his bum._ _

__“Stop that.”_ _

__He didn’t. So Louis smacked him again and Harry moaned, outrageously loud._ _

__“So that’s how it is, is it?” Harry simply looked back over his shoulder and smirked. Louis tapped his hip. “Up. Get up. On your knees, if that’s the way you want it.”_ _

__Harry slowly and sinuously arched his back and eased his way up on to his knees, his head held low so his firm lovely arse was high and easy for Louis to haul back and strike. Harry jerked with the first impact._ _

__“Alright?” Louis asked tentatively, smoothing his palm over Harry’s warm skin._ _

__“Yes! Yes, just—“ Harry’s head fell down between his hands, and Louis could see his lip clenched between his teeth._ _

__Louis smacked him again, and Harry cried out. He did it again, and again, counting to ten where he stopped. Harry’s cock swung between his legs, hard and obscenely red._ _

__“So that’s a thing,” Louis said, ghosting his fingertips over Harry’s reddened arse until he shivered._ _

__“Shut up,” Harry muttered, but Louis could see the glint in his eyes. It was a thing. They were quite a pair._ _

__“I’ve already had you screaming,” Louis said conversationally as he reached for the lube once more. “Does that count?”_ _

__“No,” Harry replied, twisting his upper body around to watch Louis as he prepared._ _

__Harry sighed and his eyes slipped closed as Louis’ first finger pressed inside him. He quickly added another. Harry was loose and relaxed, and Louis took note to remember it for the future._ _

__“One more?” Louis asked._ _

__“No, I’m ready.”_ _

__Harry groaned as Louis slid inside in one long slow thrust. Every snap of his hips was punctuated by some sort of vocalization. Harry cursed and moaned and cried out, and Louis could feel his body tensing up again._ _

__“You’re really loud when you’ve got a cock up your arse, did you know that?” he teased._ _

__“So are you,” Harry shot back._ _

__“Not this much,” Louis said with a grin. “Should I gag you?”_ _

__Harry tensed and came, brokenly shouting Louis’ name. His back arched to the extent that Louis knew it would be sore later, and he clenched down so hard it made Louis gasp. Louis came a few thrusts later, Harry’s body milking it out of him as he twitched and moaned to the end._ _

__Louis flopped down on the bed beside Harry and flung an arm over his head as he tried to catch his breath._ _

__“Jesus _Christ_ , I’m wrecked, you kinky fucker.”_ _

__Harry chuckled and gingerly eased himself onto his side, slipping his hand across Louis’ waist._ _

__“Looks like we’re going to have to wash the duvet,” Harry observed, wrinkling his nose adorably._ _

__“That’s alright, there’s another in the closet.” Louis waved his hand absently in that general direction._ _

__“Would you like me to get it?” Harry offered, moving to sit up, but Louis held him in place._ _

__“Not now.”_ _

__“Are you going to fall asleep on me?”_ _

__“Maybe,” Louis mumbled, tugging Harry’s warm body closer. Harry smiled and snuggled in._ _

__“Aren’t you cold?” he wondered._ _

__“No,” Louis replied, trailing his fingers along Harry’s broad back. “I have you.”_ _

__***_ _


End file.
